


Love You Like I Should

by MissLii



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Dreamsharing, Falling In Love, Happy Ending, M/M, Multi, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-24 08:17:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 50,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10737762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissLii/pseuds/MissLii
Summary: “You see,” he says, and shifts from one foot the other; Liam feels like he’s a deer stuck in headlights, unable to move under Louis’ gaze. “I used to have lots of dreams about coffee, and annoying as hell coffee machines.”“Oh,” Liam mumbles, feeling his stomach do a strange flip.“So, I’ve been looking all over this town for you,” Louis finishes, chin held high.“Me?” Liam blurts out, then clearing his throat when his voice comes out too high. “I mean, why would you think that I’m your…”Or: Liam is twelve when he has his first dream about his soulmate, and it’s both exciting and terrifying for a boy that has almost no one except his family. When Liam’s twenty-one, he meets a boy at work and falls head over heels in love. After that, it should be simple. But Liam’s dreams don’t stop, though they should when he’s found his soulmate.





	Love You Like I Should

**Author's Note:**

> This is my third Big Bang fic, and I'm really happy with how it turned out. Without my beta reader it wouldn't have been nearly as good, and I owe [Jessi](http://jessimond.tumblr.com/) everything. She also did the lovely art for this fic, so she's the best, really!
> 
> (Find the art in the fic, or in the Tumblr post that can be found [here](http://liamismymuffin.tumblr.com/post/160019066489/fic-love-you-like-i-should))  
> Disclaimer: standard disclaimer. I don't own 1D, never have, never will be. It's all fake.  
> 

Liam’s twelve when he gets his first soulmate dream. It’s a lot like his normal dreams, but it doesn't quite feel like it’s _his_ dream.

It’s a dream come true.

The dream is fuzzy and from the point of view of his supposed soulmate, and it’s a game of hide and seek with small girls giggling in the background. Liam can _feel_ how happy his soulmate is in the dream.

He wants to see his soulmate’s face, see who he’s going to end up with when he’s older.

It’s a shame it’s not that simple, and at twelve it’s hard for him to understand the meaning of having to wait. He’s waited for the dreams to start, and now he has to wait to meet that one person who’s perfect for him. Just for him.

If the dreams were clearer it would’ve been simple to find your soulmate. Then you could look at photos, and recognise places and faces. Some things are clearer than others, though – so if you’re lucky, you might see a house or a bedroom.

It’s not as if that’s going to give him a clue how to find his soulmate, but at least he’ll know something about his soulmate.

It can be a memory that causes the dream — one where Liam is reliving what his soulmate’s gone through. But it can also just be a dream, something they’re thinking about or want.

It’s supposed to say something about who that person is.

He never sees the face of the person he’s supposed to meet and probably fall in love with. Which feels weird to think of at his age, but it’s also something he desperately wants. Just thinking about how there’s someone out there who’s going to want to spend their life with him is mind blowing; he’s not the most popular boy at school, and sometimes he’s doubted this was ever going to happen.

It’s very likely it’ll be a long time until he meets his soulmate, his _one_ , but the dreams will help feel a part of his soulmate.

It’ll make the wait easier, and less alone when people start to pair up around him.

He feels different when he wakes up, more grown up than before. He’s not more of an adult than the day before, he knows that. It’s just a big part of growing up.

And he feels warm and loved, like the person in his dream.

It’s an ordinary, boring Monday, and he’s supposed to go to school in less than an hour. He still looks the same; there’s no mark on his skin or anything like that. He’s still a scrawny twelve-year-old who worries about failing in school, disappointing his mum, and not having any friends.

Now the lack of friends is easier to ignore. His soulmate felt so happy in the dream, carefree like Liam rarely is, and that makes him smile.

Slow with sleep, he drags himself out of bed and goes to sit down at the kitchen table.

“Morning mum,” he mumbles, covering his mouth with his hand as he yawns. It seems like he’s consumed by the tiredness, no matter how happy he is. Being close to being a teenager sucks sometimes; his body and voice change, and he wants to sleep all the time.

“Good morning, love,” she greets, ruffling his hair as she passes behind him on the way to the counter. “Did you sleep okay?”

Liam nods and takes a bite of the toast on a plate, already on the table.

“Anything special on the schedule today?” she asks, carrying on the conversation that they’ve every morning. She probably knows his schedule better than he does.

Shaking his head, Liam takes another bite. It’s hard to focus today, to make small talk, but his mum’s probably used to the mumbled answers he tends to give so early, so she doesn't notice any change in him.

Maybe there is none. At least not a visible one.

He doesn't tell his mum. She’ll know sooner or later, but Liam wants to wrap his head around it first. This is what he’s been hearing about all his life.In all those romantic Hollywood films that boys his age pretend to hate, and all those stories he’s heard people talk about.

His dad is his mum’s soulmate, and Liam’s heard their story so many times he knows all the details; they were lucky enough to live in the same small town, and while someone can’t see their soulmate in the dreams, they’ll know anyway.

The dreams stop the same day, it’s said. From that point, they’ve their soulmate next to them, sharing their days in other ways.

It’s supposed just to feel _right_ too. Liam figures he’ll know what that’s supposed to mean when he meets his soulmate — if it’s all butterflies in his tummy, or if it’s something else. If it’s like finding a home in someone.

His first soulmate dream makes him want to go to bed and sleep again straight after breakfast that morning to see if he can figure out a bit more about his soulmate. But it’s no use trying to force the dreams, Liam’s been told.

So he goes to school and sits with his head bent over his math book, still thinking about the dream.

He gets called out by his teacher for daydreaming, but he’s barely listening to her anyway.

– – –

There are more dreams that same week, and some of them are a lot like the first. Sometimes they’re on a soccer field, with boys running around. Sadly they’re not dressed in a team uniform — that would have made it so much simpler to find his soulmate. Liam’s not good at soccer, but he’s happy to learn to play if that’s what his soulmate likes. It looks proper fun in the dreams, being part of a team like that.

Liam wants to meet his soulmate _now_ ; the wait feels so unnecessary to him. When it’s a done deal that person will fit with him so why can’t he have that person now?

It’s not like he expects his soulmate to go to his school, but he can’t help but look for them either way. In case he was lucky enough to be from the same town as his soulmate, he should’ve recognised something or someone from the dream. Even if the dreams are blurry.

In a way, he doesn’t mind the wait. Liam wants to be the best person possible when he meets his soulmate, and while Liam’s good at some things – most of all music, the one thing he feels really confident in –- he’s not the best student, or someone people invite to parties or footie games.The dreams weigh up to that. It’s almost like he’s there too, like he experiences the same things his soulmate does.Sometimes, he wonders if his soulmate can feel him the same way. If his dreams are filled with lonely nights at home or being picked last at gym.

He hopes his dreams are better than that. He’d hate to make his soulmate sad.

One morning, though, he wakes up with a weird feeling in his body. He’s had a dream again, but that’s not surprising. The dream just doesn't _feel_ the same. Somehow he knows it’s not his dream, but so far his dreams have been pretty straight-forward. They’ve all felt a bit like Liam’s living his soulmate’s life.This dream wasn’t anything like that. It was colourful and lively, yes, but it felt different. It didn’t feel like his own dream. Not like when he dreamt of standing on a stage in front of thousands of people. That felt _real_ , like he could change the outcome in the dream if that was something he wanted.

A soulmate dream is more like just watching from the sidelines as a silent participant in it all.

Liam knows that it’s not always he’ll dream something his soulmate has done or gone through. Sometimes it’s just random, like Liam’s own dreams can be. One time he dreamt of going to school stark naked, and that’s not something he’s done or wants to do.

In the dream he’s just had, there was a new, bigger house than he’s used to. It’s a lot quieter, only an indie-sounding song playing in the background. The kitchen looked quite new, and he was in the middle of baking cupcakes when he woke up. Liam would've thought that would make a pretty boring dream – cupcakes and flour are pretty boring stuff unless Liam gets to eat the cupcakes.

It didn’t feel boring. It felt safe and familiar, and Liam woke up warm and content.

He feels just as safe and happy as the dream.

Maybe this dream was just a normal dream, though. Liam thinks it must’ve been because his soccer-loving soulmate seems to have dozens of siblings, loud and always there, and a messy house. And the dream didn’t fit into that life.

– – –

When Liam’s fifteen, he’s a bit wiser than when he was twelve, he thinks. Back then he just wanted to meet his soulmate so he could have one proper friend. That was all he wanted. Getting together with someone — kissing them or just holding hands — are things he’s started to think about first now.

The dreams don’t come as often as he wants them to, and they’re weird and confusing, not quite making sense to him. It’s not like one dream is confusing if he just thinks about that one dream, but trying to fit them together like they're pieces of a puzzle and find his soulmate seems impossible. The accents in the dreams change, as well as the scenery and other things. His soulmate is someone with two homes: one parent in one city, and the other in a different one. It’s his best theory so far.

What’s worse is that he now knows that everything’s not tinted with pink sparkles. Everyone doesn't get a happy ending with an equally happy soulmate.

It’s not like the films where everything just works out. It’s complicated, scientists still fighting about _why_ and _how it really works_ – and then there’s those that thinks it’s God’s work, which Liam thinks is unlikely. He still thinks everyone should get to believe whatever they want.Just like they should get to love whoever they want, no matter if their family is against it, or whatever. While they’ve been told from a young age about soulmates, it’s not until this year the teacher tells them about the downsides, and even then it’s just glossed over.

They’re told it’s not going to happen to them, of course it’s not.

But sometimes a person doesn’t meet their soulmate, and sometimes compatibility and faith don’t go together. Sometimes it just doesn't work out, so Liam’s trying not to hope too much. Not every soulmate relationship is perfect; they can be just as unhealthy if one or both parts isn’t giving it their all.

There’s still those that doubt the system, though. Some doubt because they’ve had bad experience.Sometimes your soulmate dies before one even gets to meet them, and the still living soulmate always knows something’s wrong. The dreams just stop, but instead of that rightness, they just feel empty.

It sounds like an awful feeling and not something Liam wishes on his worst enemy.

He’s just a teenager but even then he knows it’s not a perfect bliss, he still wants to try. It would be his luck not to get what he wants – he’s almost used to it by now.

Supposedly someone can settle with someone not their soulmate, start a family and be happy enough. But Liam doesn’t want to try for something that’s not meant to be.

– – –

At the age of sixteen, Liam’s grown into himself a bit. He’s taller, and while he’s still got some baby fat on his cheeks, he doesn’t feel like a baby anymore. He’s still lonely, and his dreams are still not quite what he wants them to be.

He loves them, but he also hates them for not helping him figure it out.

More than one of his classmates have met their soulmate by now but he’s still dreaming, and he’s not any closer to his soulmate than he was three years ago. It’s frustrating.

It’s only his third day as a sixteen-year-old, and it’s the first weekend. That means it’s time for celebration since that’s not something they do in Liam’s family on a school day Anything to make sure that people – the friends Liam’s mum thinks he has – can come.

Liam might have lied to her, just to make her feel better.

Now, he wishes he’s been more honest. That he’d told her the truth when she wanted him to invite his classmates, if not earlier.

He takes one last look in the mirror, and sighs. _It’s good enough_. His hair is straightened so you can’t tell he’s really curly-haired, and that’s the way he wants it to look.

His mum fusses endlessly about how doesn't let his hair be natural when he’s so cute with the curls. But Liam doesn’t want to be called girly or even gay like he’s been more than once.

It’s weird that that word is even an insult since it’s a way to be born. Liam doesn’t understand how it could be wrong. Maybe it hits him harder since he’s pretty sure his soulmate is a boy; it feels like it from the dreams – not that girl can’t play soccer, or like superheroes or guitars. It’s just that there’s this one kind of dream – the dream that force him to wash the sheets when his mum’s not at home.

Those dreams feel very boyish.

Since some are obviously meant to be with someone of the same sex, it shouldn’t be a big thing. But there are those that think otherwise, just because the romantic films don’t reflect real life. Liam’s never even seen one film about two men in love.

He’s not embarrassed that he might end up with a bloke. It doesn’t bother him. Even when he doesn't think she’ll hate him for it, he’s still not told his mum, who by now knows his dreams have started.

It feels too private to talk about his soulmate, and when his classmates giggle about theirs. He just wants to keep his close to his heart.

“The cake is ready,” his big sister Ruth shouts, and Liam sighs once more, and walks down the stairs. Not wanting to be ungrateful, he puts on a smile.

It’s going to be a disaster, he just knows it. Liam’s handed out invites at a school like his mum asked him to, and while a few promised to come to his sixteenth birthday, he knows it won’t be a success.

For a moment there, he felt like just putting them all in the bin. He knows some of his classmates did just that, and maybe it would’ve been better to do it himself.

Less disappointing and hurtful.

“You look nice,” his mums tells him as he enters the living room; it’s made up with a balloon and a banner that wishes him a happy birthday, and Liam kind of wants to cry.

And the cake is too big; there’s no way _that_ many people will come.

“Thank you, mum,” he says and gives her a hug. Maybe he holds on harder and longer than usual, but she’s sniffing and mumbling about him growing up too fast, so he’s pretty sure she’s as happy to let the hug go on a little longer.

He gets a pat on the cheek when he pulls away, smiling wobbly. His mum’s eyes are looking a bit wet at the corners, and while she’s often teased in the family for how easily she cries – this time because he’s growing up – Liam sort of feels like crying, too.

His mum insisted on the party, telling him turning sixteen is a big thing. It might be that Liam’s lied a bit to her about school, and told her that things are better than they really are. He just doesn’t want her to worry about him. Kind of a lost cause after this, he reckons.

In the end, not a single person comes to the party, and Liam’s not even surprised. He had hoped, of course, that maybe someone would be bored and maybe hungry enough to spend some time with him. He’s not even sure what he’s done to his classmates to deserve this. They’de already bonded in kindergarten, when he spent time at hospitals and at home.

Sometimes he can’t wait to grow up, and move away from this town. At least right now, he’s got his family, and they still want to celebrate with him.

“They should be here any minute, right?” Karen goes to fix something on the table, even though the spoons are put out perfect and precise already.

“Yeah,” Liam agrees as he sits down on one of the chairs by the table his mum’s put out. The party is a bit simple. _Cheap._

He’s ashamed that he even thinks it – but he’s heard the stories about some of his classmate’s parties.

But Liam’s parents aren’t different from half the people in his class; his mum’s a nurse, and his dad works at the local factory that makes aeroplane parts. That’s nothing unusual, and nothing to be ashamed of.

Liam was sickly as a lot as a kid, and didn’t spend time with the other kids in the neighbourhood when they were small. Maybe that’s the reason the treat him differently; they knew him when he was weak and an easy target.

Kids can be cruel sometimes, Liam knows it all too well.

He hopes it’ll get better when he moves away from here. He will do it. Not only because he’s got a feeling he’s never going to meet his soulmate here, but he wants more than working with his dad at the factory.

He wants more than anything to sing or work with music, but that’s reaching for the stars. If he can manage to be a firefighter, help people and maybe save a kitten or two in between, he’s more than pleased with it, too.

His grades are okay because of his hard work and determination. Getting out of this town, where nobody’s going to come to his is what makes him put those hours into making sense of his schoolbooks. He doesn’t have top grades, not in english and not in maths, but he tries his hardest.

It’s ten minutes past four, and Liam’s mum has started to glance towards the door, while Liam tries to pretend nothing’s wrong.

Liam bites his bottom lip and crosses his arms over his chest. The clock on the wall ticks loudly in the silent room.

Oh, how he regrets that he didn’t just throw the invites away. Then he wouldn’t have had to feel this humiliated,

His mum stands up and leaves the room, and when she comes back, his sister and dad are with her. Liam knows she’s told them about how not one person showed up to his party.

His family makes the best of the situation, bringing him his gifts and cheering after they sing. Liam’s smiling, wobbly but real, when they take a photo of him, grateful that he’s at least got such a wonderful family. It’s enough for now.

That night, he dreams of going on a Ferris wheel at a carnival with a pretty girl that looks a bit older than Liam is. He wonders who she is, if it’s someone his soulmate knows.

She’s really pretty, and he feels weirdly like he knows her, so he thinks so.

When he wakes up, he feels better. He can’t wait to meet all the lovely people his soulmate seems to know, no matter if it’s this pretty girl – who Liam would worry about being a girlfriend, if he wasn’t so sure that his soulmates longs for him as much as Liam does – or it’s one of the tinier, blonde girls in some of the other dreams.

He’s glad he didn’t dream of the party that night. He doesn’t want his soulmate to think he’s a loser.

– – –

Sixteen is also the age he starts boxing, needing to have an outlet for all his energy. Some days Liam uses the soccer ball he’s bought, but running around the backyard with a ball isn’t quite as fun as it would surely be with his soulmate.

He spends a lot of time practising, and he’s not half bad when he’s trained for six months. The muscles he’s started to get is an extra bonus, and if he flexes his arms in front of his mirror, it’s just for him to know.

People leave him alone when they find out he can defend himself. He just wishes he never would’ve been forced to do it in the first place.

It’s the year he get his first proper friend. Jade’s pretty and sweet, but sadly she’s not the person for him, since she’s both female and dreaming about someone else. She’s also strong enough not to care what people say about her and is willing to take a fight for Liam.

Liam is strong enough to defend himself now, but it’s nice not needing to.

And it’s nice to have someone to talk to, compare dreams – the dreams they have about what they want to do with their lives, and also their soulmate dreams. The one that’s supposed to tell them something about their future.

“So,” he says as he sits down on their secret spot. Jade’s already sitting with her legs crossed, and has a small smile on her lips. She looks happy, eyes almost sparkling.

Jade smiles softly, and Liam can relate to that fond feeling she’s got towards her soulmate, no matter that she’s never met her. “She’s thinking about dying her hair purple.” She pauses, tilts her head, so she manages to look even more adorable. “Or pink, it seems like a hard choice to make.”

“Seems like she’s someone fun,” Liam says. He doesn’t know anyone with hair dyed in any other colour than red or maybe black.

He imagines things are different in a bigger city.

“She does seem fun,” Jade sighs, leaning back against the three. “Her dreams are amazing, can’t wait to meet her.”

Liam giggles and bumps his elbow gently against Jade’s arm. “It’ll be easy to spot her if her hair is dyed that way.”

Jade nods like she’s already thought of that. “Dead smart too, not just pretty and fun.”

“You’ve not seen her, have you?” Liam asks, wondering if he’s missed out on that somehow.

He’s not sure how that would help him find his soulmate faster, not without a name added to the face, but it’d be great. It’s not that he cares if his soulmate is blonde, or has dark hair, but it would be nice to know a little more about the person he’s already half crushing on.

Jade shakes her head. “No, but I know she’ll be. I’ll love her and think she’s pretty even if she’s got a wonky tooth.”

Liam snorts out a laugh, but then he stops and wrinkles his nose up. “Um,” he says slowly, “I’m pretty sure my soulmate is a bit of a klutz since he seems to be tripping over his feet a lot in his dreams. At least when he’s not out on the soccer field.”

“See,” Jade crows happily. “Bet your soulmate has a crooked tooth, in that case. And you won’t care.”

“He might, yeah,” Liam agrees, shaking his head fondly. Maybe he should place an ad for klutzy boys with messy rooms and lots of sisters.

His mum would never allow it, though, too afraid that he’d get in contact with the wrong people, like old, disgusting men. She’s probably right, is what’s worst. It’s almost never that easy.

He’s still lonely in the sense that he hasn’t found his soulmate. But he’s got a proper friend now, someone to talk to, and that makes the wait easier.

– – –

Jade meets her soulmate when they’re eighteen, and it turns out it’s a _very_ pretty girl named Perrie. Her hair is pale pink, but her teeth are perfect just like the rest of her.

They meet at a concert, actually bumping into each other on the way to the loo.

Liam’s still not met his soulmate, but he mostly spends time in Wolverhampton, and he’s met pretty much everyone in the whole town by now.

Every day he goes to work at the same factory as his dad, he does it to save up so he can move away from Wolverhampton. In a way, he likes it there. He loves his mum and dad, and Jade and Perrie, who’s there visiting more often than not, are great friends.

But he won’t find his soulmate on a soccer field nearby. He’s been to more games of the local team than he can remember, just to see them meet teams from different towns.

It’s unlikely that he too bumps into his soulmate in a line, but it could happen. It could.

The dreams about soccer still happen from time to time, but now it’s mostly more fantasy than a play-by-play from his soulmate’s day.

At least, Liam doesn't think he’s soulmate with anyone playing in the Premier League. More likely someone that seems to have a small thing for David Beckham.Liam’s slightly jealous of that, but it must be okay for them to dream about celebs that they won’t ever meet. It’s not like it’s anything real, and David Beckham is Great Britain’s pride.

Liam can see the appeal.

Sometimes there are amateur soccer games on muddy fields, with a boy hollering at his mates to get it _the fuck on_.

Liam’s pretty sure that’s his soulmate swearing like that.

He learns more about his soulmate, and every little detail in the dreams is something he wants to remember. His soulmate longs to meet him too, and while his soulmate is as clueless as he is, he dreams more and more often about Liam.

It feels like that, at least; he’s always faceless in the dreams, and they don't really do anything special. Some of the dreams are more dreamlike that most others, like something out of a romantic television drama, with fields full of colourful flower.

Sometimes they’re just eating a kebab outside of a big arena, but that feels as much as a dream date to his soulmate.

It’s a relief to have the dreams. He’s not alone anymore, but sometimes he still feels lonely. Jade has Perrie now, and he kind of feels like the third wheel even though they try to make him feel like a part of their ‘non dates’ that _totally_ are real dates.

Those dreams make him feel like he’s part of something bigger. Something like what Jade and Perrie have, with the fondness, sweetness and sheer love.They fit so well together, like now when they’re cuddled together on the sofa, with Liam at the other end. Jade’s more or less in Perrie’s lap, and there’s a lot of touching going on, though Liam’s grateful they keep their hands over their clothes this time.

_Why does Liam always end up in situations like this?_

“Stop daydreaming about your lover boy,” Perrie says teasingly, her hand on Jade’s thigh.

Liam’s not thinking _that_ much about him; she shouldn’t assume it’s his soulmate he thinks about every time he spaces out a little. It’s probably no use saying that, though he’d like to point out that he doesn't sit around and mood while he waits.

He is definitely not sighing longingly as he stares into the sunset. That’s a _huge_ reach from the half-written love songs he’s got scribbled down in notebooks in his room.

Not that huge, but still. He’s not pining openly.

“I will try when you stop trying to grope your girlfriend when you told me this wasn’t a date,” he answers, using that same playful tone. He doesn't really mind; he likes to see people in love, though he doesn't want to see them do stuff.

Perrie smirks and smacks a loud kiss to Jade’s neck that leaves a pink mark, her lips a bright magenta. “Just saying,” she adds with a flick of her hair. “You probably have lots of fun dreams about him at night.”

The way she says _fun_ , causes Liam to blush hotly, and he shakes his head even though it’s true. He stops when Jade lifts one eyebrow and eyes him skeptically.

“Fine,” he sighs, cheeks warm and pink. “Maybe it’s like that, then.”

Jade giggles happily and snuggles closer to Perrie. “Perrie’s always right.”

Liam’s not sure that's right, one person can’t be right the whole time. But Jade’s in love, and Liam’s sure he would’ve said the same if he was in her shoes.

And now he’s thinking about _him_ again. Maybe Jade’s right when she’s teasing him about being lost in his dream world sometimes.

He’ll try be better at living his life until he meets his soulmate. That’s what he wants his soulmate to do, not have a boring life until then.

The film on the television makes little sense when he turns back to it. It’s the latest one about soulmates; it’s something most people want, so there’s big money to make on the topic. So, he can probably figure out the plot even though he’s missed the first half.

– – –

Liam’s warm; he’s really, really hot in the best way. It’s all a bit hazy, too light and too unfocused, and he can’t quite place what room he is in, but it doesn’t matter much.

There’s a warm body behind him, and a hot puffs of breaths against his neck. There’s a hand on his dick, stroking him firm and sure like it’s meant to make him come.

Oh, how it works. He can feel his toes curl, and when there’s a whispered ‘come on’ in his ear, his body tenses up.

Liam wakes up with a start, panting heavily, and quickly realises it was just a dream. His body seems to think it’s all real, and he rolls over to his back, not being able to think when he’s rubbing off against the bed. He takes a deep breath and tries to collect his thoughts.

It’s hard when all he can think of is how good it must feel to have those hands on him for real. It felt like the dream wasn’t his, so he reckons his soulmate was dreaming about doing that to him, and Liam’s almost overwhelmed at the thought.

It’s not long until he shoves his hand down his underwear, and just tries to remember just how it felt.

It's not the first time he’s had one of those dreams, but this time it felt like the hand was on his dick, and it doesn’t take much to push that final bit now that he’s awake, achingly hard like he’s been teasing himself for hours.

With his eyes closed, and the dream fresh on his mind, it’s easy to imagine that it’s someone else’s hand when he jerks himself off.

– – –

When he’s just turned twenty-one, he starts dreaming about London. He’s been there before, so he recognises some places, some street names and some monuments. The dreams of cities and new places are nothing new, really. The last few years he’s had lots of dreams; some from towns small enough to be driven through in five minutes, places he can’t put a name to, and some from big cities like Prague and Milan.

At least, he thinks that’s the cities he’s been dreaming about.But Liam never was the best at geography so he could be completely wrong.

He’s got a feeling his soulmate likes to travel, maybe sit down in quiet, and meditate in nature in a new country. Which honestly is strange, considering some of his soulmates traits and interests. It only makes Liam even more curious.

Liam thinks it mostly places his soulmate wants to visit since they seem to fit into a travel blog more than a memory. It’s a bit too good to be true, though Liam’s sure Venice is lovely.

But now it’s different; this time it does feel like something that’s happened to his soulmate. He can feel the happiness almost bubbling over – there might be a new job, but Liam’s not sure what it is; it might be something with kids, there seems to be even more of them now. Or it could be something with just ordinary, grown people is all sizes.

Liam’s so lost, and he’s got no idea where to start searching in London.

There’s worry too, his soulmate wondering how he’s going to manage without his family. And Liam wants to be there to distract him when he’s feeling homesick.

Liam’s not the best in the kitchen, but he can throw together a pasta with tomato sauce – the kind from a can – and a his warm cheese toast is pretty tasty. Maybe it’s not the kind of food mums cook. But it should be fine; his soulmate is a boy and close to his age, it feels like. He’s gone through the same stages in life, the same time as Liam. So he shouldn't be paired up with someone twice his age, luckily.

He’s not sure how he’s going to find him, there are thousands of people living in London, and it’s not like he can just count on finding him just by moving there. But it does increase his odds.

Sure his soulmate is now living in London, Liam decides he should move there too. After three years of working with his dad, and working out and hanging with Jade and her friends, he’s more than ready.

It’ll be good for a change, and he likes the idea of people not knowing who he is in a new town. He won’t be seen as the kid with only one kidney, or more like only one _working_ kidney, who wasn't invited to birthday parties because of it all middle school.

He’s got enough money, he thinks. He’s been saving up as much as he can, only a year ago getting himself a small flat of his own in Wolverhampton.

– – –

The day the moving truck with his boxes leaves his home, Liam’s got butterflies in his stomach. It’s so exciting, moving to this big town where he _knows_ his soulmate is.

Somewhere.

Now he just needs to be practical, and settle down, and then he’ll see if he can make sense of his dreams. Maybe figure out where his soulmate lives; it shouldn't be overly invasive he thinks. He won’t camp out outside any buildings, but taking a stroll past the places he sees in his dreams can’t hurt.

The ride there takes ages, it feels like. His dad is driving, Liam’s got his driver's license but the truck is a lot bigger than their car, and the streets get more and more crowded with cars the closer they get to his new home.

It’s not really in central London, but it’s really expensive compared to Wolverhampton even then. But one short train ride and then a few minutes on the tube, and then it’s just a short walk to his new workplace, a coffee shop that didn’t ask for any earlier experience from the same kind of jobs.

Hopefully, Liam will manage to charm at least some of the customers into giving him tips. Then he can replace the cheap, second hand furniture in his one bedroom flat, his small kitchen and his even smaller bathroom.

His mum hugs him first thing as they get over his doorstep. “You sure you want to do this?” she asks, holding on tight.

Liam pats her back and gives his dad a smile over his mum’s shoulder, as he walks past them with a box in his arms. “I’m sure it’s the right thing to do, yeah.”

They’ve had the same conversation more than once already, and this time his mum’s not crying like she did when he told her he wanted to move. She’s sniffling a bit in his ear, but it’s still a lot less emotional this time.

She’s happy for him, Liam knows that. But she worries a lot about him. And while it’s just a few hours away by car, or train as Liam will have to take to get home, it’s the furthest he’s ever lived away from her. To her, he’s still her _little boy_.

He will forever be, probably, no matter how tall or how much muscles he’s got.

“Let go of the boy, Karen,” Geoff huffs, patting Liam’s back and he walks past them on the way out of the flat again to get more stuff from the car.

“Just going to miss you,” Karen says, but does as she’s told.

There’s not a lot of boxes in the car; he’s been good at not buying unnecessary things, but it takes some time to get his bed up the three stairs.

Liam’s almost never heard his dad swear like that.

It’s late before his mum and dad leave. Liam’s not totally happy that they’re going to drive back Wolverhampton, but it’s kind of nice to be alone in his flat, as bare as it is.

It’s not like he’s got any spare bed, or even a sofa right now. There’s no room for one, so he’s got to use his bed as a sofa, too.

Might be cosier with a dog, a big one preferably – like maybe a Great Dane – but it’s not right when he lives alone like this. It’s an idea for later, though, when he shares a flat, or even better, a house with someone. The dog would get both plenty of attention, and plenty of walks.

Liam hopes he’ll get someone to have company with on his morning runs. Hopefully the recurring soccer dreams mean his soulmate is at least a little athletic.

He won’t let his mind wander too much, cause then he’s dreamed up a white house with a fence, three dogs, a car and maybe some kids, too. Liam’s always wanted a big family.

He doesn’t want his soulmate to think he’s a total marshmallow. So just in case those ideas bleed into his nightly dreams, he’ll try to keep his daydreams to dog paws rushing around, and nothing else.

– – –

“Oh no,” Liam mumbles, not for the first time that day.

His first day at work is a bit of a disaster.

He’s been working in a factory, away from stressed people and hot drinks. It’s not even rush hour; he’s supposed to learn the job while it’s a bit calmer.

Liam can’t imagine how stressful it must those hours during midday, or before or after work when there are more people than this. There’s a line the other side counter now, and they’re spitting out coffee orders that make Liam’s head spin, and his fingers shake.

He did read up on their menu beforehand and tried to learn what all the words meant. He’s never understood that Almond Milk was a thing before now. Nobody drinks that at home.

At least, Liam’s not taking the orders or talking to anyone today.

Every little mistake counts, it feels like. And so far he’s burnt his fingers and spilt coffee on the floor. It might be not only his first day at work, but also his last.

When he was offered the job after an interview with the shop manager, he was kind of surprised; he only sought the job since it didn’t require any education. It _sounded_ simple, but it really isn’t.

How he even got this job, he wonders even more now.

“It’s okay,” Zayn, his trainer – or coffee coach, as Liam likes to call him in his head – says and takes the paper mug from Liam. He drops it in the bin, takes another one and gives it to Liam. “Just start from scratch.”

“I suck at this,” Liam sighs, shaking his head. He does what Zayn asks, though, really wanting to keep this job.

“We all did at first,” Zayn says and nods toward the machine. “Try one more time.”

Liam frowns, concentrating hard on the button on the coffee machine.

–

Two weeks into his life in London, everything is going a bit better. He’s half decent at his job – he’s only forced to do do-overs a few times a day – and he’s started to get friends. Mostly the staff, who mostly consist of young people who are quite new to London, too.

Zayn’s the most laid-back boss Liam’s ever had. Some days he doesn’t even see Zayn, and Liam suspects it is because he’s hiding in their breakroom, reading comics.

He’s kind enough to share them with Liam when he’s on break.

There’s a lot of people walking in and out of the shop, some regulars and some just one-timers that are either tourist or businessmen.

With all those people passing by, it feels like he should’ve met his soulmate already. But he’s got no real clue where his soulmate is, or what he does during his days. Liam’s dreams are as confusing as ever. Last night he dreamt of kittens hopping around in a bouncy castle.

Is that supposed to mean something, or is his soulmate just a flower loving hippy?

Liam loved the dream; it was cute and fluffy, and he woke up with a giggle on his lips.

It’s the first day he works the early morning shift, and while it was horrible having to go up at four thirty, it’s okay. Or as okay it can with with one person short because of illness.

He's managed, at least.

There’s plenty of people that work faster and do a nicer fluff on the coffees. Like, proper artsy things that make the heart Liam once managed to make look like kid stuff.

The line is building up, and Michael is working with two drinks at the same time as Liam takes orders, and fixes drinks in between. Most people pay attention to their phones, some even keeping their eyes on it when they order.

Liam finds it rude, but today he doesn't care.

There’s this one bloke who’s Liam’s been trying very hard not to stare at since he came into the shop. It’d be proper embarrassing to just stand there, and not hear a thing when he orders – and also to have been caught looking a bit too much, so he keeps his eyes firmly on the customer in front of him the whole time.

It’s hard, though, because the lad is strikingly attractive. He looks grumpy, a cute frown on his lips, but he’s got such a great face. Even Zayn, who Liam finds attractive because of that probably the whole world does, has nothing on this new customer.

He's not wearing anything special, a band t-shirt that looks a bit too punk for Liam’s taste, a pair of jeans and sneakers. Still, he’s very distracting.

Liam’s never seen him in the coffee shop before. He would’ve remembered him.

There’s an elderly lady right in front of him, and Liam when he wishes her a lovely day, his heart speeds up in his chest.

He’s going to make a mess now, he can feel it in his whole body. He’s tapping his fingers on the counter, restless, when he puts on a smile, and looks at the lad the straight on.

He’s got a lot more tattoos that Liam realised before, there’s even one on his chest, that Liam would like to see more of. He’s not used to feeling like this around people; he’s been drawn to people before, of course. Even though he knows his soulmate is out there, he still finds people good-looking.

But it’s never been like this.

He wants to reach out and touch his hair, see if the messy fluff in the front is as soft as it looks. And he wants to trace that tattoo with his fingers, and maybe even with his tongue. Liam swallows hard and tries to ignore those feelings.

It’s neither the time nor the place.

“Good morning,” Liam greets with a small nod. “What can I get you today?”

“Hiya, Liam,” his new favourite customer says, and Liam’s about to ask how he knows Liam’s name. And then he remembers about the badge on his chest… with his name on.

“Just tea,” the bloke lists, glancing towards the glass counter. “And one of those blueberry muffins.”

“What do you want me to write on your mug?” Liam says, words coming out too fast.

“Louis,” he gets back, and Liam nods and starts writing it down, now that he’s asked. He’s not quite how to spell it – it sounds a bit French. In the end, he writes the British spelling with a ‘s’ at the end, hoping it’s right.

Louis’ accent is different, but otherwise, he’s a lot like people from London or other big cities. Confident, loud and sharp. It’s not like it matters; Liam’s written wrong more than once, he’s sure, but most people don’t get upset by his inability to spell.

Liam almost wants to ask how it’s spelled, and the reason he pronounces his name like that. Instead, he focuses on doing his job.

It’s not really necessary to ask since Michael starts on the tea without any pause. And it looks like Louis knows it; he stands taller, almost smug with what Liam thinks is pride.

Liam’s fingers shake when he’s gripping the tongs, and when he pulls out the muffin – the one that looks the biggest, because he wants Louis to be happy with his service – he drops it on the floor.

“No,” Liam mutters and wonders what’s to do. Should he just pretend like nothing until Louis is gone, and Liam can start doing his best to forget it all?

_Will he disappear, get invincible, if he stands still and quiet long enough?_

The customer behind Louis mutters a curse under his breath, annoyed that he’s taking too long.

“Shut your mouth,” Louis says, arching one eyebrow at the middle-aged man with a beer belly. “Or do you think you’d do a better job?”

Liam’s impressed when the man looks the other way, acting like he’s never said anything rude at all. He’s also glad that those clear blue eyes are not turned on him, colder and sharper than when he looked at him.

Liam gives Louis a grateful smile and plucks out another muffin to put in a paper bag.

Louis’ smile is really nice when he says, “Cheers, mate.”

He regrets not putting his phone number on the mug. Louis might not _the one_ , but he’s interesting. Now he’s gone, and he might not come back.

Liam tries not to mope the rest of the day.

– – – –

It takes him about a week to realise that he’s not once dreamt about footie or kids running around with crayons and paper planes. He misses the dreams something fierce; it was something that made it feel like he knew his soulmate.

He still dreams but it’s like he’s only getting half of what he used to; half the amount of dreams and they’re not at all as varied as before.

What terrifies him is that he’s no idea who the person is, and there’s no way for him to know how to meet him if his soulmate changes interests. Like, Liam had this idea they would bond over soccer.

_Is that chance gone now?_

He’s met countless of people in London. Fuck’s sake; he works at a coffee shop in a huge city. It could be literally anyone living there, or wanting to live there.

It feels like he should _know_ , though. He’s been told that all his life.

“Fuck, fuck fuck,” Liam mutters to himself. He needs to stop thinking so much about it; it’ll happen sooner or later. He’s sure it will.

There’s only one person he wants it to be, and that’s Louis. Who’s sadly not been in the shop since that time Liam made a fool out of himself.

– – –

Louis, he’s not forgotten about when he, _finally_ , steps back into the coffee shop. This time he’s there during the slow hours of the night, just before closing time. Liam’s heart makes a weird jump in his chest, and he’s happier than he’s got any reason to be.

Louis eyes him speculative; maybe because he remembers him from the time before, or maybe because he likes what he sees.

Liam can’t figure out what that glance means.

London’s done wonders for his self-esteem. Here people look at him and seem to find him attractive. Too bad he’s not interested in one night stands, then he would’ve had it easy to find his fun here.

Sometimes he’s still a bit daft when it comes to realising when people are hitting on him, so maybe he’s a bit too nice when he refuses them, sometimes.

“Hi,” Liam greets when there’s been silence for too long. Liam’s starting to feel awkward, like he wants to check in a mirror just to see that he doesn't have anything on his face.

He doesn't use Louis’ name; out of all the people that visit every week, Louis isn’t even a regular.

He shouldn’t remember his name.

“You want to order something?”

Louis shrugs. “Think you should agree to go on a date with me.”

“Um,” Liam stalls; he’s been hit on during work hours, but Louis is very straightforward. Liam wasn't expecting it.

“You might not even remember me,” Louis says, putting his hands in his back pockets – his jeans are really tight, and Liam’s got a hard time not to stare at Louis’ thighs.

They’re very nice, just like every other part of Louis.

“Well,” Liam says slowly, keeping his eyes on Louis’ face, “It’s not every day I drop things, so I’ve a faint memory of you, yeah.”

It’s not every day anymore, but it’s not very long since he did it either. He won’t tell Louis that, but maybe he should say something to answer his question.

“And not to be rude, I’m sure you’re great,” Liam says, and Louis looks both hopefully and dejected at once.

“No, hear me out,” Louis breaks in as if Liam was going to say no. When he’s just being reasonable and listing the reasons it’s a bad idea.

Or, he would’ve been in case Louis would’ve let him.

“It’s probably not a good idea,” Liam just says and picks up a rag to clean the already spotless counter. Just to have something to do, and to stop himself from smiling like a dork, and blurting out a _yes_.

Liam’s been thinking an awful lot about Louis since the last time, and he’s more sober about it now than before. Dating someone, just for the sake of it, will only turn into a mess in the end.

Liam doesn't want to be one of those that end up hurting someone he loves, just because he then later in life meets his soulmate. He rather wait.

Not that he thinks he loves Louis, that’s silly. He’s just a bit infatuated.

“This might sound stupid, but until I met you, I’ve been visiting every bloody coffee shop in this city,” he says, shaking his head. “Spent too much money on tea I could make in the damn kettle at home.”

Liam’s confused, but he chooses not to say anything. Louis looks so nervous now, the confident, near cocky look on his face gone.

“You see,” he says, and shifts from one foot the other; Liam feels like he’s a deer stuck in headlights, unable to move under Louis’ gaze. “I used to have lots of dreams about coffee, and annoying as hell coffee machines.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Liam mumbles, feeling his stomach do a strange flip.

“So, I’ve been looking all over this town for you,” Louis finishes, chin held high.

“Me?” Liam blurts out, then clearing his throat when his voice comes out too high. “I mean, why would you think that I’m your…”

“Soulmate,” Louis adds, arching his eyebrows. “Because you must be.” He shrugs again, looking more relaxed now that he’s said it.

Liam’s knees feel weak, and he needs himself a good cup how hot tea to calm down. Or ten shots of tequila would also do the trick.

His mind is going on overdrive, over analysing every little detail. It does feel kind of right, though, now matter how cliche that sounds.

“Maybe,” Liam says, still not one hundred percent sure. He did have one dream just the other night, but maybe that’s just because they’ve not accepted the bond yet.

“We could go on one date, to see if it’s up to your liking,” Louis says, and Liam nods. That seems reasonable, and what harm can one date do, even if Louis’ soulmate is serving someone else coffee right this second.

“Maybe we should not do the whole –” Liam waves his hand around the coffee shop. “– first date at a coffee shop thing.”

Louis nods, looking around the still empty coffee shop. “Can understand if you get sick of these places after eight hours in here.” He laughs, shaking his head and pointing his thumb at a graffiti style painting on the wall. “Not that this place isn’t lovely… very artsy.”

“Just thought that you might want a change,” Liam explains, quite fond of this very coffee shop. Though, it’s not the place for a date.

A first date. _His_ first date ever.

Louis shrugs lazily, smiling softly. “Give me your number, and I’ll figure something out. Something great, promise.”

Liam nods and picks up a paper mug, scribbling down his phone number before he pours Louis a cup of tea.

It’s what he wanted to do the last time, and it’s the most romantic thing to do right now.

– – –

He gets the first text, later that night. It’s quickly settled that they’re going on a date in four days, the first night Liam’s not working late shift this week.

It’s possible that he’s going to drop one or two drinks this week, thinking about Louis.

At least, now he’s got his number.

– – –

The place Louis takes him is very posh, and Liam’s glad he dressed up in a pale blue shirt and a nice pair of black jeans. Louis looks good, too, wearing a suit jacket to his tight black jeans.

Louis said he knew someone that got them in; jeans are not really _acceptable_.

He was really nervous before, even more so when he was told that they’re going to have their first date at a place like this. It’s not quite Liam’s style, but he figures Louis wants to do his best.

Liam’s a bit scared of how much it’s going to cost Louis. Liam will do his best to pay part of it. Louis seems very set not letting him, but Liam’s quite stubborn too.

There’s something that looks a bit like seaweed on his plate; the menu was hard to understand, and while the waitress was really sweet, Liam didn’t feel like to make a fool out of himself by asking what the words mean.

Now, he knows that Louis didn’t know either.

“I thought you’d like this,” Louis says, sounding miserable as he pokes at something very green on his plate that might be kale. To Liam, that’s rabbit food, so he shakes his head, making a face that his mum would’ve been upset by. “Otherwise I’d just taken you to Nando’s.

“I’d be happy to go there, afterwards,” Liam offers. It’s not like he’s going to be full on this food.

They are past the first few awkward minutes, when Liam wasn’t sure if he should hug Louis, or not. Now it’s more relaxed, and Liam feels like he can say what he wants.

Louis seems done with the food. He puts down his fork with a huff that Liam finds cuter than he probably should. “Tell me when you want to go, and we’ll get out of here.

Liam nods and takes another bite, chewing slowly. He’s sure the chef is very good, and he hates to upset people, so he’ll try to eat a little more before he gives up on the food.

Louis is just looking at him, and Liam’s can feel himself blushing at the attention.

“You look so good that I kind of want to hit you,” Louis groans, a whine in his voice that makes Liam wrinkle his nose before he understands that Louis is joking.

He doesn’t think Louis wants to hit him, not really. Trying to be cheeky, he winks at Louis. Only he can feel both his eyes squeezes shut so maybe it doesn’t count as a wink.

“In a kinky way?” Liam asks with a little giggle.

Louis tips his head back and laughs, so delighted that Liam wants to preen with happiness.

“Maybe later, if you want,” he suggests with a wink that’s much smoother than Liam’s, and Liam nearly chokes on the seaweed. “We could start with some kissing, later maybe?”

Liam’s smiling when he puts down his fork. “I think I’d like that.”

“Glad to hear it.” Louis smirks, looking well pleased with himself. He’s got reasons to, Liam’s enjoying himself even though it’s kind of not his place.

“You’re not a total disaster,” Liam says, trying to sound dismissive. But the smile he can’t stop from spreading on his lips makes Louis grin even harder.

“Just wanted to clarify that I did not want to hit you just because you look like that.” Louis waves at him, and Liam’s not sure what he’s after – his face, his arms, or his tummy.

“ _No_ , I understand,” Liam says and tries to catch the waitress’ attention when she swishes past behind Louis. “You were just teasing, I reckon.”

His closest friends have mostly been girls, but he’s quite familiar with someone teasing him in a fond way. And not in a mean way. At least, he’s been lucky enough to get the nice kind of teasing the last few years.

This feels a lot like it; Liam likes it when Louis teases him and compliments him in the same breath. It makes him feel good, all warm and happy inside.

“More like I want to punch myself in the face,” Louis mutters, and snaps his fingers when the waitress ignores Liam once more. “With those arms, I reckon you don’t only dream of boxing. Bloody hell, mate.”

Liam’s almost forgotten to analyse Louis and trying to figure out if he’s right about them being soulmates. It’s the first mention of it since Louis came into the shop, and Liam’s happy that they’re not nagging details, just trying to have fun.

But he stops breathing for a second at the mention of boxing.

“You’re a footie player, so you’re quite fit yourself,” Liam says, blushing red all the way down his neck.

Louis blinks at him, looking surprised for a moment. Then he collects himself, chest puffing out as he nods and smiles. “Don’t think I’m Beckham, but I’m alright.”

“But you don’t play any team, right?” Liam asks, pretty sure he’d seen Louis around otherwise. It’s kind of ridiculous how many games he’s been to, at all divisions, these last few years.

“Never really had the time,” Louis says, shrugging. “Not when I’ve had half a soccer team running around in the house, back home.”

At first, Liam thinks that Louis has kids, and that’s lots of them. He’d been okay with that, of course. It’s just a bit unexpected to find a single dad to date when they’re both young. But he doesn’t mind.

It doesn't sound quite right anyway.

“Like, your siblings, you mean?” Liam asks when Louis rambles on about all these kids that Liam’s trying to memorise by name.

Louis stops talking and widens his eyes when he realises that Liam’s asking if he’s dad to five kids – if Liam counted them correctly. “Liam,” he tuts, shaking his head.

“It’s not as if I could _know_ ,” Liam defends himself, pouting.

“Wouldn’t mind a few kids,” Louis says, bumping his foot against Liam’s shin under the table the same time as the waitress comes up to them. “But right now I think being a kindergarten teacher kind of is enough.”

“Oh,” Liam breathes out, making sense of all the crayons and glitter in his dreams. “You’re a teacher. I wondered about all the kids; there were _so_ many of them.”

Louis smiles and gives the waitress his card, before Liam can even blurt out that he’d like to share. He should pay for Louis food, he thinks, but he guesses he could just pick up the tab for the next date.

He’s going to count Nando’s as their next date.

– – –

Louis takes his hand on the way to the closest Nando’s, the two of them trying to find their way using Liam’s phone.

“This way, I think,” Liam says, pulling Louis along as he takes a sharp turn. “Or, maybe not. I don’t know.”

They’re both new to London – that’s also one more thing that points to Louis being his soulmate – and Liam's never been in this part of London before. It looks kind of familiar, though. Like he’s dreamt of it.

Somehow, they manage to get to the correct address. It’s more luck than anything, since Liam pays more attention to what Louis says about his life back home, his sisters and his new brother than about the directions.

Louis doesn't let go of his hand until they’re sat at a table inside.

It’s a lot louder, the food a lot cheaper.

This time, Liam gets to pay. He only has to pout a little to make Louis give in – at first set on playing for this date, too.

Since he asked, and everything.

Afterwards, just outside, Louis kisses him. It’s soft, sweet almost, and Liam leans into him when Louis pulls away.

“Well,” Louis murmurs, voice soft. “now we’ve done that.”

Liam nods and grips Louis’ hand, linking their fingers together. He can’t stop smiling, eyes crinkling at the corners and nose scrunching up.

“You want to come back home with me for a cup of coffee?” Louis asks, smacking a kiss to his cheek.

Liam doesn't think that’s a wise idea. “Won’t get any sleep if I drink coffee now.”

Louis laughs, reaching out to pinch Liam’s nipple through his shirt. His aim is very precise, and he grins sharper when he says, “Silly boy, of course there will be no coffee. Just kissing, and maybe some more, if you want that.”

“Ouch,” Liam whines, rubbing his chest with his free hand. Jutting his bottom lip out, making a big deal of something that didn’t hurt that much, he adds, “Don’t be mean to me just because you talk in riddles.”

“I could kiss it better,” Louis suggest, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Okay,” Liam blurts out, only to blush more than before. He didn’t mean to say yes to that suggestion. “And by that, I meant to say that I’ll be happy to continue this date at your place. Have a feeling you’re going to feel me up outside of Nando’s otherwise.”

Liam means to tease, but Louis shrugs, looking unbothered. Like Liam’s kind of right, and that’s a bit too much for Liam to think about. “Better than the posh place we were at before.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Liam giggles and lets his hand drop to his side.

“The offer still stands,” he teases, the tip of his tongue peeking out between his lips as he smiles. Liam’s swallows and fight back an interested noise from slipping out.

When they get home to a dark flat, Liam doesn’t get a chance to look around before Louis kisses him, pushing him flat against the door. It wetter, with more tongue and teeth than the kiss before.

They exchange kisses for so long that Liam’s start to feel too hot in his clothes, but he doesn’t want to pull away from Louis long enough to take off his jacket or shoes. It’s hard to keep up with the kisses, alternating between soft pecks, to deep and long snogs, when he can feel the thickness of Louis’ cock against his thigh.

He’s more than half-hard, but it’s mind-blowing that he’s affected Louis like that.

Liam feels overwhelmed, not sure where to touch Louis. He rubs his hands up his back, then down, so he’s using his hands on Louis’ hips to pull him even closer.

His breath comes out in a sigh when Louis bites at his bottom lip, only to let it go with a _pop_.

When Louis drops to his knees, Liam’s about to ask if Louis is okay, but then he realises —

“Oh,” Liam breathes out, fisting his hands by his sides.

Louis is grinning up at him when he unzips Liam’s jeans, Liam wriggling to help when he starts pulling them down.

“You don’t have to,” Liam says weakly, though he wants nothing more than Louis’ mouth on his cock.

“You’ve no idea how hot you are,” Louis answers, which isn’t really an answer. But Liam forgets to tell him that, when Louis pulls Liam’s boxers down, and puts a hand around his cock.

Louis wanks him, at first, and then he licks slowly from the base, and up to the tip. He’s shifting closer as he fits his mouth around the head. Liam’s never seen anything so hot in his life, not in any porno he’s ever watched.

Louis’ tongue against the slit of Liam’s cock, makes his head thunk back against the door, and it feels like Liam’s legs are about to give out.

Liam comes in not a long time at all; Louis obviously wants him to from how he bobs his head and up down Liam’s cock, working him into a mess.

“Fuck,” Liam groans out, pulling Louis to his feet so he can kiss him again. He can taste himself on Louis’ tongue, and he can feel Louis rub up against him, as if thinks it’s just as hot as Liam does.

Liam returns the favour when they’re in bed, both of them naked. There’s so much skin, Louis is tanned and soft all over, fine hairs on his thighs that tickle when Liam kisses his way up from Louis’ knees, teasing.

It’s a not easy to work his mouth and tongue, the same time as he tries to wank Louis off, the bit he can’t get in his mouth. Oh, how Liam’s going to do this over and over, until he’s practiced and good at it.

Not that Louis seems unhappy with him.

He can feel his cock twitch, and he’s so close to getting hard again; he keeps rocking his hips down, and it’s almost too much, the friction from the rumpled sheets. But Louis is so loud, and Liam’s so turned on that he’s got a hard time thinking clearly.

 

“You’re so good at that,” Louis mumbles, cupping Liam’s cheek. He clearly tries to keep still, but his hips keep lifting off the bed – Liam would tell him it’s okay to move, but that would mean moving his mouth from Louis’ cock.

He’s got a good rhythm going, and he keeps it shallow, so he doesn't gag.Louis is so wet on his tongue, precome smearing at the top of his mouth.

Liam flicks his tongue at the corner of his mouth to lick away some, when he needs to catch his breath. He keeps a hand on Louis’ cock, familiar to his own in his hand but with the added pleasure of getting to make Louis feel good. Every twist of his wrist makes Louis squirm under him, and Liam likes to know those things about him.

What makes him mumble out Liam’s name, and reach out for him.

When he puts his mouth back on Louis, he moves a little further down, pauses to see if he can take it. He feels like grinning when he can, but it’s hard even to breathe right then.

“Going to come,” Louis warns him a little bit later and tries to push Liam’s head away.

Liam only sucks harder and looks up at Louis, pink-cheeked and so breathtakingly pretty that Liam can’t believe he gets to have Louis like this.

At the first spurt of come, bitter and salty, he nearly chokes, but he swallows it down; Louis did it, and it’s not like it tastes bad. Using both his hands to pin Louis’ hips down, he swallows over and over. It’s a bit too much for him, new as he is, and he can feel his chin get wet with saliva and come.

It’s messy and filthy, and Liam loves it.

Afterwards, Liam crawls up to lie next to Louis, side by side. He can’t stop smiling, and when he does, he feels a pull at the corner of his mouth.

At least, he’s not going to sound like he’s sucked cock at work tomorrow. Louis didn’t fuck his mouth.

That’s for another time, he reckons. Liam hopes Louis will be a willing test bunny.

“You can make me tea in the morning,” Louis says, in an offering for Liam to stay. “Since you’re a _professional_ and everything.”

“Thought I’d get the tea to bed since I’m the guest,” Liam mumbles and curls up on his side, reaching out to flatten a test of hair that’s standing straight up from Louis’ fringe.

“If you’re really nice and don’t kick me,” Louis says, moving around, so he’s resting his head on Liam’s chest. His hair is still sticking up in the back. “Then I might give you a morning blowie in thanks.”

Liam’s not dreaming anything that night, except maybe about waking up from a warm mouth. And that’s all Louis’ fault in that case.

– – –

Two weeks and a half week into knowing Louis, Liam wakes up when his phone buzzes on the nightstand. He’s just started to get used to waking up in a room that’s not his; it’s a bit messy, all over the place, but Louis’ place is bigger. If just by a little.

His bed is nicer, too. Softer and bigger. That Louis is in it, is what Liam likes most about it.

“Turn it off,” Louis complains, swatting out with his hand towards the loud beeping, eyes still closed.

Liam shuts the alarm off, carefully reaching for the phone, and when he’s sure it’s not going to disturb Louis in his sleep, he sits up and stretches. Having an active sex life makes him sore in most places, but maybe most his thighs.

It’s like after a good workout. A really great workout, since Louis gives him amazing orgasms. If only he’d a little more time now maybe he could convince Louis to forego from that extra thirty minutes of sleep.

He’s been late once this week already, so it'll have to wait until tonight. Liam’s gone without sex for twenty-one years; he can manage even if he rather kiss Louis until he stops being a grump and starts smiling that wicked grin he has when he’s going to take Liam apart with his teasing touches.

“I’m going to go up now,” Liam tells Louis, who’s looking more or less asleep again.

“God, Liam,” Louis groans, rolling over. “The least you can do, waking me up _this_ , is to be a good boyfriend and make me some tea.”

It’s not that early. Louis needs to get up for work soon, which means he could use that tea. But… _boyfriend_ , that’s new.

It’s not something they've called each other before.

“Um,” Liam mumbles, his mind still like cotton because of sleepiness. “Boyfriend?”

Louis opens his eyes, yawning. “If you don’t mind?”

He’s more than okay with it. He likes spending time with Louis, it’s both fun, easy and many times mind-blowingly hot.

Liam kisses Louis as an answer, breathing out a yes against his lips when he pulls away.

Louis is asleep before he even gets out of bed, snoring lightly. He’s not deep enough in slumber to dream something, and Liam wouldn't be able to tell anyway since he’s awake.

It’s a bit weird that Liam’s still dreaming, but it’s not as often. So it might be that they don’t know each other properly. It’s not science, how soulmates work, so Liam reckons that’s why.

Or it is, but Liam’s no scientist so he doesn't understand how compatibility can show through dreams.

He figures the dreams will stop, just like they’re supposed to. Once they know each other properly.

Liam refuses even to think that their bond is flawed.

Liam doesn’t mind that he’s dreaming even though he’s officially dating Louis now. He likes the dreams, and he’s sure he sometimes will miss them when they stop. Even though it’s for a good cause.

Then the doubt that sometimes pops up in his head will stop nagging at him.

It’s wonderful, dating Louis, but somehow it someone feels like something’s missing. It’s weird since Louis is what he wants.It’s not something he’d ever say to Louis. It’s unnecessary when he can’t even say what it is he’s missing, or why.

Louis is perfect for him, so it can’t be about their relationship anyway.

When he leaves the flat, carefully closing the door after himself, there’s a steaming hot cup of tea on the counter for Louis.

One of the perks to dating Liam, according to Louis. Apart from how bloody hot and just annoyingly great he is.

– – –

It’s not the first time it feels to Liam that there’s something that's not quite right, when he wakes up after a dream. Still sleepy and slow, he cuddles closer to Louis’ back.

He dreamt of clouds, shaped like dragons. And also some penises. There were giggles in the dream, and also dick-grabbing.

Louis is sleeping heavily, and Liam wonders if it’s Louis’ dream, if he’s still in it. The penis shaped clouds seem like his kind of humour.

_But is he still supposed to dream?_

It’s been four weeks of dating and staying over at Louis’ flat. He knows Louis; how he’s got a horrible mood in the morning, and cold toes that he likes to press against Liam’s ankles at night.

It feels like it’s time to talk to Louis about it, maybe. But Liam doesn't want to burst this lovely bubble that they’re in, and maybe it doesn't matter if Louis isn’t his soulmate.

Though, it’ll only be worse in the end, the longer it goes on. If he lets this continue even though they’ve mistaken each other for their real soulmates.

Liam can’t imagine anyone else he wants more.

It’s hard to fall back asleep; he feels too awake suddenly. But he doesn't want to go up, in case he wakes Louis up.

It’s easier not to think about things like that when Louis wakes up, and demands Liam’s attention.

– – –

Liam’s tired when he comes home to Louis, and the first thing he does is to kick off his sneakers. He can hear the television in the living room so he knows Louis is awake.

It’s great to have someone to talk to when he comes home at ten at night; sore feet from standing up on a hard floor, but a mind that’s buzzing after working in such a lively place.

Maybe he’s had a bit too much caffeine, a bit too late in the evening to be able to sleep. But Louis is almost always awake, and willing to let him talk for as long as he needs.

Liam’s stopped asking if Louis wants him to come over. Some night he still sleeps at his own flat, but that’s mostly because he doesn’t want Louis to get bored of him.

Liam’s almost always restless in the way that he can’t sit still, always tapping his fingers or bouncing his heel. Somehow Louis grounds him.

Louis is watching an episode of that show where they go from castle to castle and look at old antique things; Liam’s not sure what it’s called. It’s not something he usually would pick himself.He was pretty sure it wasn’t Louis’ thing either, even though Liam’s dreamt of many strange paintings and even stranger sculptures. One time, he even had a dream about coins.

The show seems pretty dull, but Louis looks relaxed with a beer in his hand. Soft and lovande, and Liam wants to kiss him _hello_ , and then maybe one more time.

“Hi,” Louis says, lifting his bottle in a greeting.

“Unusual choice,” Liam says and drops down on the sofa. Louis’ bare feet are on the coffee table, and Liam pokes him with his toes. “Thought you’re more into a good soap opera.”

Louis rolls his eyes, somehow managing to look still fond. “Just because my mum's favourite show is Eastenders, and I watched it once when you came home, it’s not my favourite show.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Liam says with a sing-song voice, wrapping his arm around Louis’ shoulders.

He looks closer at the telly, the old man with very bushy eyebrows holding out a vase that’s ridiculous. And so expensive that Liam’s baffled.

“I think I’ve had a dream about this,” Liam mumbles, wrinkling his forehead together as he tries to remember. “Or something like this, only at a smaller place. Like, not on the telly.”

Louis nods and takes a takes a long pull of beer, and then he puts the empty bottle on the table. Leaning back into Liam, he gives his nipple a sharp twist and then pulls. Liam takes his hand, holding on, so he’s safe. And because he now knows it’s what Louis is after.

“I’ve had that dream, too,” Louis says softly, rubbing his thumb in a slow circle. “A bit boring, but nice, of course.”

Liam laughs, butting Louis gently in the side with his elbow. “It’s your dream; it’s your fault if it’s boring.”

Louis makes a affronted noise, “Hey, don’t insult me. I don’t give a fuck about vases. That must’ve been your dream.”

“Strange,” Liam says.

Maybe they’ve had different dreams, just by themselves that’s got nothing to do with each other, maybe they should talk more details to figure it out. This kind of show could make anyone dream about curtains or stuff like that – Liam’s had weirder dreams that don’t feel like they’re connected to anyone.

So it’s totally fine. _Really_.

When Louis bites at his neck and then starts sucking, Liam thinks nothing more of it. He’s got a thing for that, marking Liam up, and Liam doesn’t mind at all.

This show is great for making out, Liam quickly realises.

– – –

It’s been two months, when Liam starts to think that he’s been wrong when it comes to Louis.

Louis obviously isn’t his soulmate.

They’re still dating, and it’s wonderful. But Liam’s still dreaming, if not as much as before he met Louis. And just _one_ dream should mean that it’s not Louis that’s his soulmate, even though it feels so right to be with Louis.

Maybe they’re just mates material, who happen to work great in bed.

It’s silly that's not enough, when it’s everything Liam wants.

Liam can’t imagine a life without Louis in it now. He hopes that Louis is interested in keeping him as a mate when he finds his real soulmate, even though it might be a bit awkward at first.

Liam understands if Louis won’t put him first then, though he can’t imagine putting anyone in front of Louis.

He would love to be selfish, and keep Louis as his. But Louis deserves to be with his soulmate, and Liam can’t keep him for that.

He won't, even if it’ll hurt him more than anything.

Might be that he loves him a bit already, but that’s not more important than Louis.

He’s waited to talk to Louis, since he doesn't want to lose him. He knows that Louis still dreams, too, but it’s like they've been walking around pretending everything’s fine the last few weeks.

Liam’s been sleeping badly because of it.

Enough is enough, and Liam knows he’s been quiet the whole night. The telly is in on, playing Die Hard, and Louis keeps commenting on the plot.

Maybe to stop Liam from talking about what’s important. He must’ve noticed that Liam’s been tense the last hour.

Liam mutes the telly when the end credits start, and turns to Louis.

“Louis,” he begins, voice carefully even even though he feels like breaking apart from inside. “You’re dreaming still. Right?”

Louis nods tersely. “You know I have.” He’s defensive, itching for a fight already.

Liam doesn’t want to fight. He just wants Louis to understand that he’s going this for Louis’ sake.

“I think we’ve been wrong,” he says, trying to keep his voice even, calm. “We shouldn’t be dreaming, Louis.”

“I know that,” Louis huffs, crossing his arms. “Don’t mean we’re not fucking great together. Don’t understand why you want something different then.”

What Liam hears under the lines is _why don’t you want me_ , and his chest feels tight when he realises that this is the end. And it’s hurting them both.

“I just think you should keep looking,” Liam mumbles; he feels like crying, and like asking if Louis forgives him for this stupid idea. “Like, there must be someone out there that’s better than me for you, and I want you to be with that person.”

Honestly, at this point, Liam doesn’t care if he ever meets his own soulmate. He can feel his heart breaking, and he knows he’ll be so lonely without Louis in his life.

London will not be the same.

Louis refuses to look away from the television, too interested in the muted commercials. “So bloody selfish that I can’t even hate you for this _shit_.”

“I don’t want you to hate me,” Liam sighs, shoulders hunching. It’s not the time to tell Louis how much he likes Louis.

“Don’t think I could, even if I tried. But I hate what you’re doing right now,” Louis mutters, and stands up. “Are you leaving now, or are you staying for one last shag.” He sounds dismissal, head held high. But he’s got his hands curled into tight fists, and the smirk on his lips aren’t the playful one Liam’s used to.

It’s probably better to leave straight away, but Liam wants to be selfish and have Louis one last time. It’s always so good, and Liam might not have anything to compare to, but he’s going to miss Louis.

Of course, he’d miss Louis if he were shit in bed.

They’re unusually quiet when they fuck; Louis is most often very vocal, telling Liam how he likes it, how good it feels. It’s one of Liam’s favourite things. He’s never had to doubt a thing when it comes to Louis.

Except for the whole soulmate business, then.

When he’s on his back, with Louis between his legs, and Louis’ cock is in him, he’s got to close his eyes. It’s too much to see Louis. It feels wonderful, it always does, and Liam’s moving into Louis without thinking – it’s like they’ve done this so many times that Liam’s body just does what it should. Without Liam even thinking about it.

Afterwards, Liam starts to feel awkward, not sure if he’s allowed to touch Louis anymore. They’ve always curled up close, no matter how messy.

“I guess you’ll be gone when I wake up,” Louis says, voice bland like he couldn’t care less. He won’t look Liam in the eyes anymore, but Liam thinks they look a bit wet before he turns with his back to Liam.

Like Louis might cry any second, and that he’s just holding himself together by sheer willpower.

Liam hums out an agreement, and wonder if he’s going to be able to sleep anything. He’s spent so many nights in this bed, but now he knows he doesn’t belong there.

He still doesn’t want to leave. “Yeah,” he mumbles and turns, so he’s with his back to Louis. There’s too much space between them.

In the end, he doesn’t sleep much, and he leaves before Louis wakes up again.

It’s the right thing to do, but it’s the worst thing Liam’s ever done.

– – .–

Liam takes a short nap when he comes home, sending Zayn a quick text that he’s got a headache and will be coming in later.

Liam knew he was going to be sad afterwards. But he feels numb, and he tries not to think about how he’s never going to take that trip from Louis’ flat again. It’s an end to something that was really great.

It’s even worse knowing that Louis probably feels the same. If not worse, since he didn’t get a chance to prepare.

Or, maybe he had. It feels to Liam like Louis _knew_ what he was going to bring up. It doesn’t make it easier, that Louis obviously also had had doubts for awhile.

Maybe he shouldn’t feel this intense for someone. More so when that person isn’t the one that he’s been dreaming about.

Though, he wonders how anyone could be better than Louis.

It’s unlike him not to be on time; and maybe that’ why nobody says anything when he comes into work, quite late. But he works with two young – even younger – boys, and they’re quite intense about each other, so maybe they haven’t even noticed him not being there.

It’s a busy day, there’s no time for him to wallow; it’ll have to wait until he’s home alone again. His two colleagues of the day, are even worse than Liam first was, but he was a clutz that time Louis came in, so this is understandable.

Even to him, in his sad haze, he can see the way the look at each other. He can’t even feel bitter about it.

Michael, the red-haired one that’s the least loud, pays more attention to his new coworker than to Liam. It’s really good; it’s the only way he can keep himself under control.

It’s good to think about something else – though he often gets lost in his own head, thinking about how, and what Louis said.

– – –

His heart doesn’t heal, it feels like. He keeps being sad, and wishing things were different. It’s like he’s mourning Louis, though he knows he’s alive, and this is Liam’s own doing.

He shouldn’t have been so quick to follow Louis’ every lead, and he should've questioned it the first thing he had a dream that wasn’t his own, or Louis’.

He smiles at every new customer, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. All he can think about is that Louis isn’t going to come in there anymore. He’s probably out looking for his real soulmate at other coffee shops and bakeries all over town.

Maybe he’s already found him and spends his night with that bloke instead of Liam. Maybe he laughs at how stupid he was to start something with Liam.

No, Louis isn’t mean, so that’s not right. But maybe Louis understands now and isn’t upset with Liam anymore.

Liam needs them to be okay, so they maybe at one point can become mates again. Maybe at a point, he won’t be jealous of someone else being a bigger part of Louis’ life than him.

It’ll take some time, but he’ll save Louis’ phone number until then. Hopefully, Louis hasn’t blocked him. He hasn’t called, even though he’s had the phone in his hand every night, since that night two weeks ago.

A part of his brain – a huge part – wants Louis to come in, make a huge scene to get Liam back.

Maybe even get him fired, but Liam wouldn’t care. At least, not in his daydreams. He spends too much time at work in his own head, and he’s luckily his coworkers cover for him.

This is what Liam wanted, though, and while he knows that Louis is stubborn, he’s also proud and won’t let people walk all over him. Liam’s had his chance with him, even though it wasn’t meant for the two of them to be together.

He doesn’t think Louis would forgive him even if Liam managed to convince himself it was a good idea to try again. He probably wouldn’t even let him get half-way into an apology.

It would be on borrowed time anyway, so it would only hurt more in the end.

Even blueberry muffins remind Liam about Louis. Though, everything about the coffee shop is a memory of Louis – it’s where they met, and where Louis came to visit him many times on his way home from work, when Liam had a late shift.

It was a detour to get there.

Maybe Liam should look for something else to do. This place is just making it worse, at least when there are not customers taking up his time. Then he’s got too much time to get lost in muffins.

There’s a lot of things he’s wanted to do in his life except finding his soulmate, which he’s kind of given up on. _Who wouldn't in his shoes?_

He wanted to sing, and play his own song, but that’s not something that’ll come easy. He’s not done it since he came to London, no time between work and Louis. It’s not too late to try again. Liam’s used to fighting for things, though he sometimes feels like he gave up on Louis too easily.

He also had a dream to be a firefighter, and help people.

Maybe he should look into that.

_Should he even stay in London? Is it worth trying one more time, with someone that maybe isn’t the one anyway?_

Liam’s started to doubt the whole system with soulmates. It just seems stupid to him now.

– – –

The next few weeks, Liam’s got a horrible feeling in his stomach when he wakes. At first, he feels happy – just for a moment, he can forget about the mess he’s made of his personal life, but then the slowness of his brains goes away, and he feels _cold_. Just cold and horrible, and like he wants to never leave bed again.

He would love to live as lump underneath his duvet, listen to a breakup playlist on Spotify until his chest stops hurting so much.

He hates, hates, _hates_ his dreams, but most of all he hates himself for falling for Louis. It’s hard to even think of him, but sometimes Liam allows himself to wallow. He’s to blame, but that doesn’t stop the hurt.

Neither does ice cream straight from the carton like films told him it would. He complements buying some cheap whisky, but that would probably end with him calling Louis, begging for his forgiveness.

For Louis to take him back.

It’s a lot less nice spending time lazily watching telly on his own.

He doesn’t even have a sofa, so he’s got to eat in bed. But that’s how far Liam’s taken it.

– – –

It’s the first time he feels totally bland when he wakes up with a dream fresh in his memory. Unlike most of his own dreams, the ones that are in his head because of someone else, are detailed and most often still there the morning after.

It feels like it should’ve been easier to get it right, right away. But Liam failed.

He wonders how many times he can dream of cupcakes. Why doesn't his soulmate – Liam’s stomach get a tightness in his stomach he’s not used, every time he even thinks that word now – get bored of them?

_How bad is his sweet tooth?_

Though, now the dream is going through a vegan phase. And also some sort of health kick phase, considering all the greenish things Liam doesn't have any clue what they're called.

Louis would have hated everything about it. Liam knows he’d frown at putting green things in any type of cake or pastry.

He’s glad he didn't get a chance to bring Louis home to his mum and dad, while he did mention to his mum that he sort of was seeing someone. She was happy for him, of course.

And curious, so very curious. Liam wanted to bring Louis home. His mum would surely have loved him, even with all the tattoos, a bit too much _bad boy_. He wasn’t one, though, and Liam loved his style.

The last few weeks, he’s been letting himself go a bit; his hair has grown, so it’s started to curl, and he’s too lazy to do anything about it.

Most of the time he’s not working he spends at home. He says no when his co-workers ask him to go with them to the pub, and he goes home to his bed and curls up with his phone in hand.

Strangely his flat doesn’t even feel like a home anymore. He’s not sure if it ever did.

It’s been weeks since he’s done anything physical. He got a bit lazy when he was with Louis, and he needs to get back to his normal routines now that he’s alone again.

He rather went to Louis’ place instead of to the gym, and he rather spent a lazy morning in bed with Louis than leaving it to go outside in the misty, cold autumn morning.

Sex is a great way to burn calories, or so Louis told him when he wanted Louis to come along on a run. It was a lot more fun, anyway.

Even if he goes out, if he starts living his life again, it doesn’t mean he’ll look for his soulmate.

Liam’s kind of over that, even though he hates to think that maybe it’ll mean hurting someone that could – _should_ – mean a lot to him.

It feels like he’s doing Louis wrong by moving on, though. And he actually knows Louis, and not just by a bunch of stupid, maybe unrealistic, dreams. It should mean more than anything.

– – –

Sometimes Liam just needs to set his mind to do something. The first time he laces up his running shoes again, he feels like going back to bed again. But then it starts to feel better, every step a step away from his heartbreak.

It’s not as it helps in the long run, but those moments he’s out, he’s got a clear head. When he’s running, he’s not thinking of Louis’ face when he understood they were breaking up.

He’s started to run, more than ever. It’s something to do when he’s not at work, and it’s the one time his mind is blank. The only things he’s thinking of is his footsteps against the pavement, and the steady thump of his heart.

He’s not in the best shape compared to before, but he pushes past the discomfort and pain.

He’s on a new path today, probably running too far away from his flat. But he’s got no time to mind, and nobody’s waiting at home for him, so he doesn’t care when he looks up and realises he’s on a street he’s never been on before.

His phone will guide him home. And if he turns out to be too far away, then he’s got his Oyster card tucked away in his pocket.

At least, he doesn’t think he’s been there before. But it’s after dark – his mum would worry if she knew he was out running on his own at this time – so he’s not quite sure. It does look a bit familiar when he looks around, slowing his steps.

When he runs past a bakery, he comes to a stop. His heart beats hard, and his breathing comes out in short puffs. It’s a good time for a pause, really it is – but Liam’s got no idea why he’s stopped.

He’s not allowed himself any pauses, not since he started running again.

Inside there’s a bloke, maybe his age behind the counter. Even at this distance, Liam can’t stand there and stare at him through the window. But something pulls him in.

It can’t be how, objectively, attractive the guy is. Liam’s not interested in anything like that at the moment. Though, it doesn’t take a genius to understand that this lad is really good-looking; he’s got curly hair, a bit like Liam’s but longer, tied back with a red bandana. He’s got on a simple black t-shirt and a very colourful apron.

Liam should get a move on.

But this bloke seems lonely. It’s late but shouldn’t there be any customers inside, Liam wonders. It’s not _that_ late, and London is a big town. The place seems quite nice; it’s good vibe, though it’s not Liam’s usual style. It’s not styled in the pale beige tone that Liam’s so used from his work, but in a mix of old, mix-matched old furniture in different colours.

It looks like there’s a thought behind it all, even though Liam can’t understand the connection.

There’s a sign over the door that reads _Buns, buns, buns_. It’s both the best and worst name Liam’s ever heard. It’s silly, and he’s absolutely charmed.

Without thinking it through, he opens the door and steps in.

He can get free muffins or scones after closing time at work, things that otherwise would’ve been thrown away. It’s one of the perks of the job, except the tips that Liam’s usually quite good at getting.

Usually.

These last few weeks, he’s tried less so it’s not strange it’s been lacking in that department. It takes some charm to get people to give away those extra coins.

Inside, it’s warm and smells lovely, like a fresh bake of homemade cakes. Low music is playing in the background, an old Drake song that Liam really digs.

It fits the place; it’s got a softness to it, but isn’t overly romantic or sweet.

“Hello there,” the baker greets, resting his hands on the counter as he smiles at Liam. It’s a full force smile, with deep dimples popping in both his cheeks.

The sheer force of the smile surprises Liam.

There’s a name tag that reads _Harry_ on his chest, but Liam doesn’t focus on remembering it. He won’t come back here.

It was a spur of the moment thing to go in, to even run past it. Now that he’s in there, he realises that he’s got no idea if he’s got any money on him to buy anything.

What is he even going to do with one of the delicious looking, cupcakes, if he can buy one. He can’t run with it home, and he doesn’t really want to take the tube in his sweaty clothes, if he doesn’t have to.

Maybe he should worry that he stinks right now, Liam realises and tries to sniff himself discreetly, without putting his nose in his armpit.

He’s been too quiet for too long, blinking awkwardly at Harry and breathing heavily.

“Um,” Liam mumbles, pushing his hands into his pockets. He breathes out a sigh of relief when he notices that he put his credit card along with his Oyster card. Thank god he can get out of there without making a fool out of himself. Belatedly, he adds, “Oh, _hi_.”

“What can I do you for?” Harry asks, looking at Liam a bit too closely for him not to think about how he looks.

His face is blotchy red after the run, and his hair is sticking every way. It feels like he should’ve made an effort. But he’s at the bakery, not a fine-dining restaurant, he’s sure Harry’s seen worse.

It should be enough to calm him pulse, that’s acting all out of sorts even though he should’ve been able to get it under control, after a few minutes of break.

Liam can barely look straight at Harry, without feeling awkward. He takes a long look at the row of the colourful cupcake.

“You want one of them?” Harry asks, moving so he’s straight in Liam’s eyesight, at the other side of the glass shelf. He bends down, so he's facing the row Liam’s looking at and pulls out a bright purple cupcake.

“Yeah, that’d be great,” Liam agrees, pushing his hands deeper into his pockets. He’s not sure what he wants, but it’s hard to say no to Harry’s big, green eyes.

Liam wants to tip him for just standing there, and that thought makes him want to facepalm. But Harry’s right there, so he stops himself from doing anything other than nod.

“Think you’re going to love this,” Harry murmurs, his voice slow and low. “It’s lovely.” He pauses, winks and adds, “Just like you.”

Liam nods, glad his cheeks are already tinted pink. He gives Harry his credit card, and watches his fingers as he pushes in the amount of the cupcake on a old-fashioned cash register.

He feels dazed when he walks out of there with a box in his hands.

Too tired, he finds the nearest tube station. He eats his cupcake on the way back, a tasty sugar bomb that tastes of violet.

He can’t stop his brain from going back to _Buns, buns, buns_. Most of all, he can’t stop thinking about Harry’s dorky wave when he told Liam to come back.

Liam _shouldn’t_. He’s not ready for any more heartbreak, and he’s sure Harry would break his heart in the end.

It’s never meant to work out.

– – –

Liam has had a few nights that he’s been sleeping really great, no dreams bothering him. He doesn’t think much of it at first.

His mood has been better, and he’s gotten good tips at work. He still looks for Louis, almost expects to see him there, but it doesn’t feel like he’s going to break into pieces every time he doesn’t see Louis there.

Time heals all wounds, Liam reckons, though he’s sure this one will leave a scar he’ll never lose. He’s not sure he wants to forget, even if he somehow could.

He’s been keeping up with his runs, and he’s stopped eating himself full on ice cream. He feels better, stronger and healthier.

It’s raining faintly. But he’s decided to run today, so he puts on his running shoes, and goes outside either way.

In his earbuds the music is turned up loud, a steady thump that causes him to push himself harder, run faster. He’s going to be so tired when he comes home, but it’s a good kind of tired – not the emotional, empty tiredness he’s felt after his breakup with Louis.

It’s the second time he takes the same route, while he’s stayed away from just those streets for a few days. Maybe it’s the music, the same album that played in the shop, that makes him run there.

The cupcake was lovely, but he’s not planned to go there again. It’s just a weird coincidence that he’s there again, outside that lit up window.

There’s no reason for him to stop, and there’s certainly no reason for him to go in. The boy, Harry, from the night before works this night too, and while Liam thought he seemed lonely the other night, he isn’t now.

There’s an old lady talking to him over the counter, as he puts something in a box. She looks charmed, giggling at him as if she was a little schoolgirl and not a woman old enough to be Liam’s grandmother.

Liam can relate in ways he doesn’t want to think about.

He still opens the door, pulling out the earbuds. Today, there’s something a lot more indie sounding coming out of the speaker, something Liam doesn’t recognise but sounds both sad and romantic and the same time.

The customer leaves shortly after Liam enters the bakery, and Harry gives him a warm smile, his focus shifting. Liam doesn’t know if Harry recognises him. But why should he; he’s just a face among many that enter the shop every day.

He probably makes every customer feel like they’re the only one in the room. Which Liam _is_ , of course.

It’s better if Harry doesn’t remember him anyway. Just because he wants to ask Harry a lot of things, that doesn’t mean he should. Like if the _Buns, buns, buns_ , is his or if he’s just working there. If he’s happy, and if he would like to explain that green chair in the corner that doesn’t look like anyone could sit on it without tipping it over.

“Hi,” Harry says with a little nod, and a slow smile. His eyes really are startlingly green.

Liam thinks someone must’ve written poetry about them.

It’s like they’re almost sparkling, as if Harry’s a Disney Prince. With the long, curly hair, the description kind of fits.

Liam bites back a giggle at the weird thought; it’s rude to laugh at Harry when he’s working. Well, otherwise too, of course.

Some details in the bakery feel like it fits a bit too much in Liam’s dreams, when he looks around just not to get stuck gazing at Harry. He’s got no idea how he missed it the last time, but there are two paintings at the wall that can’t be that common. It’s not only that.

Maybe if he wanted to find him, he could hang out there, talking to Harry as he waited for his soulmate to come in through the door. Though, he’s got no idea how to tell when that happened.

It would only end with him getting yet another hopeless crush, this time on Harry. Liam knows himself, and he’s hopeless so of course he’d go and get attached to someone he shouldn’t.

Liam should just stay away from boys forever. And from the cakes too, they’re dangerously tasty, almost addictive. He’s only just started running again, and while he knows it’s good to treat yourself now and then, it’s not a good idea to visit too often.

Mostly because of Harry, and not the sugar in the cakes.

“I don’t know if I should,” Liam says and bites his lip as he looks at a rainbow coloured cupcake. It looks better than the dry scones he ate after work, finding it boring to cook just for himself.

Harry frowns and shakes his head. “Don’t be silly,” he says, sounding so pouty that Liam regrets saying it in the first place. Also, it’s a bit dumb to be in there, if he’s not going to buy something.

Maybe he subconsciously did plan to go there, after all. _Can his brain decide that for him?_ He knows he’s got money on himself this time.

What he’s going to say if he’s not buying anything. _Something about this place pulls me in_ , sounds ridiculous.

About as ridiculous as saying, _you’ve really pretty eyes_. Harry has really pretty eyes, though.

“Just something small, then,” Liam says and shrugs; he can feel his heart starting to calm down, his pulse almost back to normal. But his chest still feels weird, like when he’s just had a warm cup of hot chocolate on a really cold day.

“Just let me get a box for you,” Harry murmurs, and Liam nods and takes out his wallet. There are a few one pound coins he’s gotten as a tip earlier that day, and Liam thinks it’s a good idea to give them onto Harry.

It’s the polite thing to do.

He watches Harry’s back as he puts the cupcake in a box, and then ties a pretty bow on it.

“Here.” Liam holds out the coins in his hands when Harry turns to him, carrying the box over.

“Oh no, I won’t take that,” Harry says, putting his hand over his heart. As if he was offended, though his smile is cheeky. The box in his hand wobbles dangerously, and Liam’s almost afraid Harry’s going to drop it.

The cheekiness, the teasing remind him too much of Louis, and it takes him a second to process Harry’s words.

“But I have to pay you,” Liam says, almost begging to give his money away. He doesn’t put the coins away, but he feels a bit awkward standing their palm up, so he fists it and lets it drop to his side.

He’s used to bickering over small things after more than a month almost living with Louis, but Harry’s nothing like Louis. He’s not Liam’s boyfriend. So he’s not sure how to treat this situation.

“You’re a repeat customer,” Harry says as he pushes the box over the disk. “You can’t pay the second time; It’s like a rule.”

Liam’ never heard of that rule, and he works in sort of the same line of work. It would mean a great loss of income, and while Liam’s never been the best at math, he knows at least _that_.

“But I can tip the baker, maybe?” Liam hopes that’s Harry, since he’s the one he really wants to tip. And not only as compensation for being so charitable and giving away sweets.

“That would be me,” Harry says, pointing his thumb at himself. “But no, you can do that the next time.”

“Next time,” Liam repeats, wrinkling his forehead up as he tries to remember if he’s told Harry he was coming back. He doesn’t think so.

Harry nods, looking like it’s decided, then. That Liam agreed when he really just was confused.

“And then you should try one of our new bakes,” he says and points at the shelf that Liam maybe should have looked at if he didn’t want to spoil himself with sugar. It’s very _green_.

When he reads the signs, there’s one that’s called Beetroot chocolate cake, and one that’s called banana/honey cake, and one raw strawberry pie. It’s unlike anything Liam’s ever eaten.

“No sugar in anything,” Harry says happily as if he didn’t just turn Liam’s head into a mess of questions. Maybe it’s not noticeable on the outside, though he must look confused. “Well, no _artificial_ sugar, there’s some honey and dates and stuff.”

Liam lets Harry ramble on about the ingredients, and he looks around the room again. It’s just a coincidence that Harry’s making healthy bakes; it’s probably trendy anyway, so lots of bakeries must do that.

It doesn’t mean anything. He doesn’t want it to, though Harry sure is lovely.

“I’ll do that,” Liam says, dazed, though he thinks he might prefer a regular cupcake.

Harry winks and gives him a dimpled smile. “In case that wasn’t clear, I want you to come back. And not just so that I can sell you more cupcakes.”

Liam’s stunned at first; Harry must be flirting with him. He shouldn’t be when he could have, like, anyone in London. Possible the whole UK, Liam’s sure.

He should leave with his free cupcakes, and an invite to come back that Liam said yes to.

 _Fuck, fuck, fuck_ , he shouldn’t have done that if he wanted to stay in his own lane, safe from confusing feelings for confusingly fit boys.

It’s a problem that Liam usually sticks to his word. He’ll feel bad if he doesn’t come back – but Liam reckons it all might as well be a sales trick. Give away a free cupcake, flirt a little and then sell tonnes of things to the fool.

It’s pretty clever, now that he thinks of it, getting someone’s hope up like that. But it’s also kind of mean, and Harry doesn’t seem mean.

“Right, bye,” Liam says awkwardly as he picks up the box. Once again he’s taking the tube home.

“Bye, good fellow of mine,” Harry calls after him. “Next time you should tell me your name, though.”

“It’s Liam,” he answers automatically, opening the door and stepping out into the cold, fresh air. It helps him breathe properly, and for him to clear his head.

Harry waves at him when he walks past the window, the same way he came. It’s adorably floppy, and his wide smile causes Liam’s tummy to flip flop warmly.

This time, Liam waits to open the box until he gets home. The box is waiting for him in the fridge as he showers, humming to the song that’s stuck in his head.

He can’t remember all words, but it’s good enough for his walls. Good enough just for him.

When he’s fresh, his skin still pink from the warm – not long enough – shower, he goes to get the box. His stomach is screaming in hunger, the scones not something his mum would approve as dinner food.

He can start with the cupcake, and later he can do some pasta or something else that takes at most fifteen minutes.

He’s still singing to himself as he opens the fridge, smiling to himself. It’s the best he’s felt in weeks, and while he’s got a hollow feeling in his chest, like there’s a space for Louis there, he’s relaxed after his run.

Almost happy.

There’s a note in the box, and Liam reads it as he takes the first bite. He nearly chokes on the vanilla queen cake and pushes his nose into the frosting as he leans in to read in once more.

Just to see if he’s read it right, but yes, it would seem so.

There on a note, he’s got a line of numbers that must be Harry’s phone number, signed with, _xx H_.

He’s got frosting on his nose, and his mouth is open in shock, so there’s a risk that the muffin in his mouth is about to fall right out.

Okay, obviously Harry _was_ flirting with him and not just a marketing genius. Liam’s not sure if that makes him feel better or worse. Now he can’t tell himself that Harry’s not interested in him.

There’s no need to talk himself into thinking Harry’s his soulmate. He’ll just end up hurting himself and Harry, who he’s not even attached to yet, but still cares about. So he opens a drawer and puts it underneath his takeaway menus.

Some stuff seems to fit into his dreams, sure. But Liam can’t imagine Harry as a soccer player, though that’s just his prejudice. One person can bake and still enjoy a kick-around on the field. His judgement has been bad before, but he’s got a feeling.

Harry doesn’t seem loud enough, either.

Not like Liam’s soulmate should be.

He doesn't call Harry even though he kind of wants to, even if Liam’s like seventy-five percent sure Harry’s not the one either. It feels wrong so close to losing Louis.

Like he’s betraying Louis somehow.

That night it takes him longer to fall asleep, and while he spends some time thinking about Harry, he thinks mostly of Louis. Wondering if he’s met his soulmate yet.

– – –

The next morning, he drags himself out of bed and goes to work. Just like every other day. He pointedly doesn’t even look at the drawer where he put Harry’s number.

Later, when his feet has started to hurt from standing up for many hours, and the lunch rush is over, he’s still unable to stop thinking about the night before.

About Harry’s eyes, and how he’s interested in Liam. Out of all customers walking through that door, he wanted to spend a little more time with him.

Liam can admit to that he’s flattered but also guilty in a way he doesn’t like. Like he’s done something wrong even though he’s not even said yes.

Sometimes, just for a second, he forgets that he’s not dating Louis anymore. That it’s not wrong of him to take numbers from other guys, though he was totally unaware.

He feels guilty, and torn between wanting to go back home and dig out that phone number to call it, or just ignore it forever.

He’s more spaced out today, clumsy like he was the first weeks. He blames it on that he’s had too few hours of sleep, unable to stop tossing and turning. He’s woken up more than once, after finally drifting to sleep. Alone in his bed when he really wanted to cuddle with someone until he fell back asleep.

There weren't any dreams about mysterious boys who love soccer, art, and clothes in wildly varied styles.

In a sleep-deprived moment, he wondered if he managed to wish away his dreams. If he’s ridden himself of his soulmate. But that thought only made him feel more empty, alone, and didn’t make it any easier for him to fall back asleep.

More awake, he knows that’s highly unlikely.

And he feels bad, horrible to Louis for even thinking about saying yes to a date. One that he even knows is totally pointless, one that would just be a few hours of fun, and Liam can live without that.

It feels like taking a leap he’s not ready for, and there’s no one there to give him the last push. He could call Jade, and she would yell at him to just do it. But there’s one person who made him a little bit braver when it comes to new things, whether it was about small things like eating waffles for dinner and lunch the same day, just because he was able to.

‘ _Shouldn’t we be able to eat whatever we want when we’re bloody adults, Liam?’_

The one person that’s made him say yes to more things in life has been Louis. He’s made Liam less cautious.

Even if it didn't end well for the two of them, that doesn't change the fact that Louis was right about some things.

He doesn’t mean to take a detour on the way home, but he’s got nothing waiting for him at home. Each day feels more and more meaningless in this city. He feels so alone, not even the friendliness of his co-workers making him feel more at home.

He misses his family and his friends back home.

He misses Louis.

It’s not like he’s not aware what stop he’s getting off at, or why. But he pushes away all thoughts about it being a bad idea. Liam just needs to tell Harry very politely that he surely is a great lad, but that it’s a bad idea to start something.

Then Liam can get over the idea that it might not be a bad idea. That it would be nice to go on a date or two. Uncomplicated and fun. But he can’t use Harry as a rebound, when he’s hardly over Louis.

It’s dark when he steps out of the subway station, but he finds his way easily now. His heart beats almost as hard as when he’s running.

Harry’s there today too, which Liam didn’t consider not to be an option. Not until now when Liam stands in line waiting for it to be his turn.

Harry surely has other things to do than standing around waiting for Liam to come and talk to him.

He gets paid to be there, of course, but he probably has free days. Liam could’ve just used the phone number, never mind that he then would’ve given away his own.

It would’ve been easier to resist Harry’s eyes, and his charm, not in the room.

“Hi,” Liam says, lifting his hand in a greeting.

“Oh,” Harry says, “Out of the workout clothes today.” There’s a short laugh, and he grins wider. “Well, you’re not out of them, unfortunately, just in other clothes.”

Liam flushes and dips his chin, his cheeks heating up. “Yeah,” he agrees, at a loss for words. There’s the flirting again, the reason he feels so awkward around Harry.

Though he likes it more than he should admit to Harry, if he’s going to say no to his advances.

“You do look nice,” Harry says cheekily, nodding to himself. “Not that I don’t like the sporty look, mind you. You looked like a right footballer lad.”

Liam’s not one, if he’s not counting the kick-around he’s done with Louis. “Not quite that,” he says, not sure why they’re talking about this. “But I do like to run.”

“And box, I bet,” Harry says, leaning over to wrap his hand around Liam’s upper arm, squeezing. “With those arms, you just must use them for something.”

Liam freezes, his eyes widening as he looks from Harry’s face, to his own arm, and to Harry’s face again.

“Oh, sorry,” Harry blurts out, though his voice comes out in that slow way that Liam quite likes. “Didn’t mean to do that.” His hand is still on Liam’s arm like he’s forgotten about it.

“No, I don’t mind,” Liam says, surprising himself by meaning it.

Harry starts to grin, and then moves his hand to scratch his neck. “Just wait for a second, yeah?”

Liam nods and watches as Harry goes to the door, and fixes with something. By now, he should have been able to tell Harry what he came he for, and be on his way to his flat.

Maybe he could’ve bought one of the lovely cupcakes – the regular type – and left that extra tip. Cupcakes are great comfort food, and he feels shaken up right then.

“Just switched to the _closed_ sign,” Harry says, walking over to Liam again. He stops at Liam’s side of the counter this time, too close to comfort. Close enough to be able to reach out and touch again.

Yet, he still stays where he is.

“You’re closed?” Liam asks, looking at the door. “Am I too late, should I leave and come back?”

Harry snorts out a laugh, shaking his head. “I closed so we could talk without any sweet ladies coming in and disturbing us.”

“Won’t your boss get upset with you?” Liam stresses, thinking about elderly ladies lining up outside the shop, angry that they don’t get their cakes.

Harry shrugs. “I think I’m okay with it.”

“It’s your place?” Liam asks, impressed that Harry’s owning this. Harry looks not a day older than Liam.

Harry looks proud, nodding. “I can tell you the story another time,” he says, pushing away a curl that’s fallen out of his bun. “Now I think we need to get to business.” He wriggles his eyebrows, and for a second Liam thinks Harry’s going to push him again the counter and kiss him.

That it’s that kind of _business_ , they’re talking about.

When that doesn’t happen, he clears his throat and asks, “You want money for that cupcake from last time?”

“What?” Harry asks, wrinkling his nose. “No, I’m not awful. And I thought you maybe were doing that whole waiting three days before calling.” He makes rabbit ears with his fingers around _waiting three days_ , and his voice lifts slightly.

So Liam knows it’s meant to be a question, that Harry’s waited for him to text, maybe even was nervous about it.

He hadn’t planned to wait three days, and then call. But he came here so maybe he’s doing what Harry wanted to, even without calling.

“I’m sure you’re great,” Liam says and takes a small step back; he doesn’t feel crowded, but maybe with Harry further away Liam can think clearer. “I mean, you’re nice enough to give me a cupcake, a lovely cake even, and you’re fit, not going to lie.”

“It sounds like you’re going to say _no_ ,” Harry says mournfully, his shoulders slouching more.

Liam takes a deep breath, and realises he needs to say what’s on his mind. He’s got no obligation to Harry; he could just say no, and walk out of there. But he needs it out there, as much for his own sake.

“Something like that,” Liam agrees, ignoring Harry’s pout. “I’ve dated someone before, only to then realise that he wasn’t my soulmate, that he was meant for someone else, and it broke my heart. I don’t want that again.”

He’s talking to the floor when he’s done, the very glittery boots Harry’s wearing easier to face than him.

Harry touches Liam’s elbow gently to get his attention. He looks determined, and a bit sad – maybe because Liam’s turning him down, maybe because of Liam’s sad again.

“Have you had any dreams?” Harry asks.

First, he starts nodding, sure that’s it’s not that long since he last woke up warm all over. But then he wrinkles his forehead and tries to think when it last happened.

He can’t really place the date, but he knows it’s been at least a few days, maybe a week.

“Cause I’ve not had any since you came here,” Harry fills in when he says silently. “And I think it might have to do with you.”

“I don’t know,” Liam says, a bit overwhelmed. He came to say _no thank you_ , and now Harry says they might be soulmates.

Liam’s got no idea what to say, or what to think. Yes, he might feel something for Harry, but after Louis, it’s hard to sort out what’s right and what’s wrong.

“Could we just try one date?” Harry asks, hopeful. “It doesn’t have to be more than a cup of coffee, and if you hate me, you can rip the piece of paper into a million pieces.”

Liam snorts out a laugh and lifts his eyebrows. “How do you know I still have it, might have put it in the bin.”

“While I’m sure people throw their phone numbers at you, Liam,” Harry says, causing Liam to shake his head and giggle. “I’m going to with my tummy feel, and say that you’ve it. Since you’re here.”

Harry’s _right_. Liam would’ve thrown it away if he really wanted to, and never visited again. Harry doesn’t know his name or where he works.

So he could’ve avoided Harry forever.

It’s not easy to admit to himself that he doesn’t want to never see Harry again. Far from it, if he goes on his own _tummy feel._

“Fine,” he sighs, “One cup of coffee. And maybe a cupcake.”

“Yay,” Harry says, taking out his phone from the back pocket on his black, very tight, jeans. Liam’s not at all tempted to feel them under his hands. Not at all. “You want to give me your number now?”

Liam nods, listing his numbers so Harry can tap them into his phone. He doesn’t even think about giving a fake number.

Maybe he even looks forward to spending some more time with Harry. Just to see where it goes.

Before he leaves, Harry gives his cheek a kiss, just a dry press of lips, but it makes Liam’s heart stutter in his chest. His cheek feels hot again, and he would’ve loved to be able to stop blushing around Harry.

There’s a soft hum in his body when he walks back to the tube station.

– – –

Liam’s home, and in bed when his phone beeps. His first thought is that it’s Louis. Which it obviously isn’t since Louis isn’t talking to him. Not that Liam blames him.

A clean break was probably best for both of them.

When it’s a number he doesn’t recognise at first glance, he’s confused. His texts tend to come from the same five people and his mum. Then he notices the _xx H_ , in the end, just like on his cake box.

It makes sense that it’s Harry and not Louis. Harry, who he met just a few hours ago, and who gives him a warm feeling in his body that lessens the aching tiredness he feels when he thinks of Louis.

He saves the number, and tries to convince himself that he doesn’t look forward to the date.

Harry’s not a rebound; he feels like the best thing that’s happened to Liam in a long while, though it’s not been that long since he felt the same way about Louis.

Liam tries not to read too much into it.

If only he could put Louis behind him, not because he really wants to forget him, but because Harry doesn’t deserve to date someone who’s still hung up on his ex.

– – –

They schedule their coffee date three days later, a Saturday night when they’re both free. He’s put on a nice shirt, though Harry’s seen him in his sweaty running clothes, and a dab of cologne.

It’s hard to decide what to bring. He doesn’t really know Harry, and he’s told himself not to read too much into his dreams. He’s been there, done that. It gave him nothing, except for some memories he’s probably going to cherish until he’s old and grey.

Something sweet feels wrong. Both because Harry’s got that in piles at work, and because he seems to be on some sort of health kick at the moment.

So he ends up on a porch just a block away from _Buns, Buns, Buns_ , with a bouquet in his hands. Wondering if he’s way off his game with the purple flowers. If Harry’s going to laugh at him, not mean but fond. If he’s going to pinch him and call him a _good boy_.

If he’s going to react in a new and exciting way.

Liam’s invited to Harry’s flat, which goes against everything Liam’s learned growing up. Don’t go on a first date where there are no other people. His mum would give him a good talking to if she knew.

This is Harry, though, who’s tall and strong, but already makes Liam feel stuff. Good stuff.

Liam’s hand shake slightly when he pushes the doorbell and then waits. His heart beats loud his ears, and he counts them until the door is swung open. Then Harry’s there, smiling at him with his hair more free and curly than Liam’s ever seen at the bakery.

He’s got the on same tight jeans, but a shirt that’s almost see through – and open down to his belly button. Liam swallows and thrusts out the bouquet at Harry.

“Hi,” he then says, staying on on the porch as Harry grins down at the flowers. Liam feels like he did something right, at least.

“Thank you,” Harry murmurs, reaching out to carefully hug him. The flowers end in between them, as a barrier that keeps them at a safe distance.

Harry smells amazing, like some expensive cologne with sandalwood and citruses. His curls are soft against Liam's cheek. And when Harry pulls back, Liam almost pouts – or drags Harry back in. Screw the pretty, pretty flowers.

Harry’s prettier than the flowers anyway anyway.

“But there was no need,” Harry says, winking. “Not when you’re here. You’re a gift to my eyes.”

Liam tries to stifle his giggles but isn’t able to. It just was so _bad_. “So cheesy.”

Harry shrugs, looking amused. “It’s true, though. You look really great if I get to say so.”

Gosh, all the flirting, delivered with a joke or a straight face, makes him feel very flustered.

“Just thought you should have something,” Liam says in try to change the subject from himself.

“You should come in,” Harry says, seemingly just now realising that they’re standing with the door open, neither in nor out.

Though, it might’ve slipped his mind too. So Liam won’t tease Harry about it. Even though he kind of wants too.

“Yeah right,” Liam deadpans, rolling his eyes. “Not like we’re going to do this out here.”

Harry laughs louder than the joke deserves, Liam thinks. But he’s so pleased with the reaction that he can feel his eyes near squeeze shut as he smiles.

“I’d love to do you anywhere,” Harry murmurs, and Liam near stumbles on the threshold on his way inside.

 _Me too,_ Liam doesn't say, but the thought is enough to startle him.

Liam toes off his sneakers just inside the flat, not sure where Harry stands on wearing shoes inside or not. He’s just so used to Louis’ _barefoot rule_ that he’s started to just take his shoes off. When he really misses Louis, he takes off his socks too.

But that’s not something he’s going to think of now, in Harry’s very chic flat. It’s like something out of a magazine.

Harry leads him through the long hall into the flat, until they’re in the living room. It’s not small, like Liam’s flat, but it’s one of those typically old British houses, so it’s still pretty crowded.

At least, Harry’s got a room for a sofa. A purple one.

The purple flowers seem to fit right in. Liam doesn't feel out of place even though it’s totally different from his place. It’s not like he understands it all; the design looks complicated, and expensive, but it’s still a softness to the room.

It feels very Harry, and like a home.

He looks around the room while Harry sneaks into the kitchen, telling him that he needs a vase. Liam doesn’t even own a vase.

When he’s done looking around, he sits down on the plush sofa and folds his hands in his lap. The sofa is comfortable enough for him to sleep on, with more pillows than one person could need. Liam’s both confused and charmed.

Harry comes back, just a little while later, balancing a tray with two teacups and a kettle. Graceful like a newborn deer, he trips – on his own feet, somehow. Liam’s up in an instant, reaching out to catch Harry if he falls.

Somehow, Harry manages not to faceplant or drop the tray. He shakes his head at himself, putting down the tray at the glass coffee table.

“Smooth, Harry,” he tuts, causing Liam to giggle.

“No worries,” Liam says, and pats Harry’s shoulder consolingly “At least you didn’t trip the first time we met.”

Harry drags his hand through his hair. “Was about to when you came in. You’re ridiculously fit, mate,” he says, voice playful. Liam smiles shyly, and dips his head; Harry’s eyes too intense. “I’m glad you came back.”

Liam shrugs, trying to keep his voice straight as he says, “Just came back for the muffins.”

“Oh, you’re funny.” Harry sounds delighted, and he pokes Liam in the tummy, causing him to start laughing. “Talking about that, though. I’m just going to get us something to eat. Tried a new recipe, and you can be my guinea-pig.”

Liam sits back down when Harry walks away, pouring them both a cup of tea. “Could you pretty please bring the sugar?”

Harry’s got two plates with cake on, and sugar dispenser underneath his arm. “I’ve never done this before, but it’s like a citrus tart, only different.”

The sofa dips when Harry sits down next to him, close enough that their knees are bumping together when Harry moves. Liam looks at their legs, and decides that it’s fine that he wants to touch Harry’s thigh, put his hands on him everywhere.

“Cheers,” Liam says as he takes the sugar, and starts pouring into his tea.

“Oh no,” Harry mumbles, eyes widening. “Are you going to _drink_ that?”

He seems horrified by the amount of sugar in Liam uses in his tea, but Liam’s used to that reaction, so he just nods.

“Tastes great,” he says, sipping on the tea to see if it tastes right. It could do with a little bit more sweetness, but he doesn’t want Harry to think he’s _weird_. Though, Harry’s pretty weird, so that might just mean that they fit together.

He takes the plate with cake when Harry holds it out, rambling details about the bake that Liam can’t really take in. Harry looks expectant, so Liam scoops up some of it on his spoon.

It melts in his mouth, and he nods to himself and makes a little noise.

“So, so good,” Liam moans, cheeks flushing when he realises the sound he just made. Near pornographic. It does tastes wonderful, though, sweet and creamy. Liam loves it.

He could stand eating things like this more often if that’s what dating Harry meant. Not that being fed cake is a good reason to date someone, but it’s an added bonus.

Harry takes a bite, and chews slowly. He sits back more, presses his knee to Liam’s more firmly.

“There’s no sugar in the cake,” he tells him teasingly, licking away the fluff that might be some sort of meringue. It doesn’t taste quite the way Liam’s used to, though.

“You’re a weird baker,” Liam says, wrinkling his nose as he smiles around the spoon.

Harry shakes his head, pouting. Liam just nods and ignores Harry’s fake-hurt, “Hey, be nice to me. You’re _mean_.”

The rest of the night goes well. Harry’s nice, fit and funny. And Liam likes him more than he should after one date. He wonders if he falls too fast, and too easily. If he just keeps meeting these greats lads that might or might not be his soulmate – the jury is still out on Harry, who’s very confusing.

He goes home, well-kissed and pleased. Harry’s a great kisser, attentive and a bit playful. It feels better to do this again than he thought it would.

He goes home, and feels ready for another date, if Harry wants to.

He’s got a text on his phone when he comes home, telling him that Harry very much would like to try again.

– – –

They’ve their second date a few days later, and Liam’s less nervous at this time.

Though, when Harry told him to dress up cause they’re going somewhere fantastic, Liam didn’t think they’d go _here_.

“So happy to see you again,” Harry says when they meet up. The place they’re going to is a secret – which Liam’s not allowed to know about, _‘that’s what a secret is, Liam’_ – so they meet up somewhere in the middle.

Liam’s stomach clenches when he recognises the street they’re on. There’s not just one restaurant on the street, though, so Liam hopes until the last second that they’re not going to the same one that he and Louis had his first date.

But of course it is.

“Wanted to treat you nice,” Harry murmurs, linking their fingers together as they wait to get seated.

“Yeah,” Liam says, and forces a smile on his lips. Harry doesn’t know; he just wants the best for Liam. So, Liam will pretend his heart isn’t near breaking; this should be a happy place, but now it just makes Liam feel sad. “It’s really nice.”

The funny thing is that Harry seems to fit right in there, giving cheek kisses to the lad that gives them their table. A friend of his, it turns out.

Liam hums when Harry talks and looks once more at the menu. This time he’ll try to avoid the seaweed. It wasn’t great, but Harry seems really excited about this place, so he’ll try to not think about the last time he was here.

Harry’s not a consolation prize, and it’s not fair to him if Liam spends the whole night moping over things that don’t matter anymore.

It’s not easy not to see Louis in everything he sees. Except for Harry, if it wasn’t for that warm feeling in his chest that’s so similar to what he felt around Louis, he’s totally different.

Not better, not worse. Just different.

Harry bumps his toes against Liam’s foot. He sighs, his shoulders slumping. “You don’t like it here.”

Liam glances up, eyes widening as he shakes his head.

“No,” he says.“It’s really nice here.” He puts down the tablet with the dishes on and lays out the napkin in his lap to have something to do; his fingers start fiddling with the edge of it when he’s done.

“But you look like the menu makes you sad,” Harry explains, voice soft. As if he expects Liam to start crying any second.

Liam’s not _that_ sad, e’s just a tad bit sullen. Lost in his memories when he’s got a fit lad in front of him, that makes Liam’s life less boring.

“I’m not sad,” Liam denies, and Harry lifts one sceptical eyebrow. “Okay,” he says, defeated. He might as well just put it out there – Louis isn’t a secret; he’s just an ex that Liam might possible never talk to again. “Maybe I’m a bit mopey.”

“We can go somewhere else,” Harry offers, tilting his head questioningly.

Liam shakes his head fiercely; he doesn’t want to ruin this nice date. “No, no,” he protests and reaches out to take a sip of water, his mouth too dry. “I’ve been here before, and it’s nice.”

“Though you like a hamburger more than this,” Harry says knowingly, smiling softly. As if he already knew that. “Silly of me to take you here then, if you’re the man of my dreams.”

Liam chooses not to say that they can’t know that yet, though Liam’s dream has been very absent the last week or so. It’s nice to think that Harry could be his soulmate. “No, it’s not that. It’s very nice, and I like it because _you_ do.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Harry says, reaching out to pat his hand.

“I used to date someone else, for a while,” Liam explains, voice low so Harry’s got lean closer still. “And we had our first date here, so it’s a bit strange to be back, after the breakup and everything.”

“So sorry to hear that it didn’t work out if you liked him,” Harry says, but then he twists his face into a playful frown. “Though I’m not sorry you’re single since I’m pretty sure you wouldn't have gone out with me otherwise.”

Liam huffs out a short laugh. “You’re quite right about. One at a time is more my style.”

“And now _Styles_ is your style, Harry says flirtatious, causing Liam’s cheek turn to a familiar shade of pink that he often gets around Harry and his bad puns.

“I’m glad I’m here,” he says, meaning it a lot more than he thought was possible when walking into this restaurant once again. “Even though I don’t understand why anyone would put seaweed on our plates. Like, we’re not fish, are we?”

Harry lets his fingers drag over the backside of Liam’s hand as he pulls away, sitting back with a proud smile on his lips. Happy that he made Liam relax and smile, for real.

“Not as far as I know,” he jokes and grabs the tablet again. “Should we ask for something without the seaweed in it, to be sure?”

“Think we can sort it out,” Liam decides, shrugging slightly.

Liam lets Harry help him find a pasta dish, which actually is one of the nicest things he’s ever eaten. The wine is even tastier, almost too good since he can feel it go to his head, not used to drinking anything else than beer at home, lazily sipping at it front of the television.

It’s not really a problem that he gets a bit giggly. Harry’s funny, sweet, and very fit, and the wine is really, _really_ good.

“You’ve already told me,” Harry interrupts his thoughts. Which he said out loud. _Oops_. “You should tell me how to fit I am again, though.”

Liam giggles, blushing, Then he tells Harry once more that, yes, he’s very fit.

The dessert is lovely, the chocolate cake melting in his mouth. It’s a sweet ending to a great night.

But Liam doesn’t want the night to end. Not yet. He wants to get to taste Harry’s thighs with his tongue, touch every part of him until Harry never wants to let him go.

Liam’s not sure how he feels about that entirely, the forever part that most often comes with a soulbond relationship. He’s the forever kind of guy. Even if he’s young, he does want someone to come home to, and someone to care for.

Liam won’t think about it tonight; he’s just drunk enough to say _fuck it_ f, and just go for what he wants. Tonight, he doesn’t want to think at all.

“You want to go back to yours?” Liam asks when his plate is clean.

Harry licks his spoon, tongue teasing as he looks at Liam. His eyes seem darker, more intense than before, and Liam fights back a full body shiver. “I do if you want to come, too.”

“Otherwise you stay here?” Liam tries to joke, though he just wants to throw his napkin on the table and demand that they should go _now_.

Harry signals for the waiter with a little wave, but he keeps his attention on Liam. “If that’s what you want. I’d do anything to please you.” The way he says it, is very convincing, his voice causing Liam to bite is lip.

“You want to share the bill?” Liam asks, wriggling his eyebrows as if it’s a dirty suggestion.

Harry wrinkles his nose and shakes his head. “You can pay for our next date,” he decides, pulling out his credit card.

“Oh,” Liam teases, bumping Harry’s foot under the table. “You think there’ll be a third date, then.”

Harry nods. “Of course there will be,” he says, giving Liam a smile he can’t say no to. It must be the dimples.

But a _no_ would only be a lie; Liam can’t lie to himself. If Harry wants to see him again, Liam can’t say anything except yes.

The way back, Harry holds his hand, telling Liam about when he moved to London, just before Liam moved there. He talks about his years growing up in a house with his mum and sister, and how he’s happy now. More so now than he’s met Liam.

Liam lets him talk, humming softly, or giggling when Harry’s stories come to a rambling end.

“Come on in,” Harry mumbles, opening the door wide for Liam, who steps over the threshold into a warm home.

He’s more comfortable than the last time, looking more at Harry than everything around him. It’s still a really nice flat, but Liam’s more into the idea of sucking Harry off than talking about interior design.

It’s not the kind of dirty talk Liam thinks anyone prefers. Not even Harry.

“You want some tea?” Harry asks when they’re inside, and he’s taken his boots off.

Liam wants to say _no, just get naked now, please_ , but he nods and bends down to unknot the laces on his nice shoes. The ones he’s bought for his sister’s wedding a year back, that make his toes hurt; Harry seemed so keen on the night being perfect that he put them on anyway.

He wriggles his toes, wincing.

Then he goes to sit down on the sofa as he waits; Harry’s singing something to himself in the kitchen, and Liam lets himself be really happy for the first time in a while.

The buzz of alcohol in his blood has died down slightly, but his skin feels extra hot, and his mind keeps looping back to how great Harry looked. How big his hands are. How much Liam wants him.

When Harry comes back with two tea mugs, Liam’s started to feel antsy. He’s waited long enough. Even though it’s not been long since their first date, it feels like he’s waited forever for this.

Liam loves that Harry doesn’t rush him, but right now Liam feels desperate to have Harry’s hands on him so as soon as Harry’s put down the tea. He hopes he’s not the one rushing things between them, but he’s seen the looks Harry’s been giving him the whole night.

Liam feels hot just thinking about them, and his cock twitches in his pants.

“Made this fruit blend that you might hate because there’s no sugar in it,” Harry says, though Liam couldn’t care less about tea right now.

Liam pats the sofa next to himself. “Come here.”

Harry carefully puts down the tea mugs and sits down with a little sigh. Liam can see the skin on his chest and reaches out to trace the black moth, grateful that Harry’s choices of clothes make his skin so available.

The tattooed skin is smooth, and warm, even though Liam feels overheated in his clothes. Harry’s breath catches, but he stays still as he lets Liam touch him. Harry’s chest rising and falling under his hand.

“It’s really pretty,” Liam breathes out, his fingers shaking as he reaches out to open the shirt more.

“I’ve got more,” Harry murmurs, helping Liam get the last button undone. He twists more towards Liam and pulls him into a kiss that makes Liam hold harder to the mesh fabric of Harry’s shirt.

When Harry nips at his bottom lip, Liam bites back a whine. He lets his hands slip lower on Harry’s stomach, feeling the softness of a trail of hair lead down to his jeans. They’re so tight Liam won’t be able to get his hands in them, but he can see that Harry’s hard, and Liam lets his knuckles brush over the bulge.

He smiles against Harry’s lips when he groans into Liam’s mouth.

“Wanted this all night,” Liam mumbles, blinking his eyes open when Harry pulls back. Harry’s lips are a darker pink than before, and Liam wants to kiss him again, and drop to his knees and press his lips against Harry’s cock. Until his bottom lip is bitten even pinker and prettier.

“Wanted you since the first time you came into the bakery,” Harry counters, hands pulling at Liam’s shirt to get him out of it.

Liam believes him, is the thing.

Harry’s bigger than Liam, just a little bit taller but heavier than he’s used to when he pushes Liam back on the sofa and climbs on top of him. With no fabric between their chests, Liam’s amazed how soft and warm Harry feels.

Liam can feel Harry’s cock rubbing up against him, and Liam tries to arch his back to get even closer to him. Liam kisses Harry again, again and again. Until his lips feel sore, and he’s so hard, he can barely think anymore.

His cock is leaking, and he can feel a wet spot forming. He could probably come like this, with Harry holding him down.

“Want you so much,” Harry mumbles, lifting himself up on his hands so he can gaze down at Liam. “Want to suck you off, or fuck you. Want you on my cock, babe.”

Liam moans and lets his hands slip down lower on Harry’s back until he’s using his hand to rock Harry harder against his cock. Then he stops and nods. “Please, I want that too.”

“What part of it?” Harry asks, sitting back on his heels even though Liam tries to pull him back. He looks rumpled and well-kissed, and Liam wants him back on him. The tattoos low on Harry’s hips, the leaves, make Liam think about Harry’s cock hard on his stomach, framed by them.

Liam wants Harry naked, see every inch of him.

“All of it,” Liam says, looking down at Harry between his spread thighs. “It doesn’t matter, just want you.”

With a pleased little nod, Harry bends forward to kiss Liam again, keeping space between their bodies. Pleased that he can get his hands back on Harry, Liam touches as much as he possible can.

Liam’s working Harry’s jeans open, taking longer because Harry won’t stop kissing him.

“Harry,” Liam whines when he can’t get Harry’s jeans down his hips, fingers stuck in fabric that won’t budge. “Help me out.”

Harry pulls back, almost toppling over as he stands up and starts to push his jeans down his hips, doing a little shimmying movement with his hips. They get stuck on one of his feet, but Liam’s too busy looking his fill to giggle, Harry’s tanned body causing his head to spin with want.

“You want to go to the bedroom?” Harry asks, holding out his hand.

Liam shakes his head but grabs at Harry to pull him back down, heavy as he falls. His knees dig into Liam’s upper thigh, but Liam still likes him there. He’s mostly on top of Liam, but after shuffling around, they manage to rearrange their limbs, so it works.

It really, really _works_.

Only one problem; he’s still wearing his pants. So it wasn’t the smartest move he’s ever made.

“Hey,” Harry complains, pouting adorably, which doesn’t stop Liam from thinking about that he’s got Harry’s _naked_ body on top of him. “You’re not naked.”

“Then maybe you should do something about it,” Liam says, teasing.

Harry seems to take it as a challenge, since he sits back up, quickly working Liam’s jeans open, and down his legs along with underwear.

“Fucking lovely,” Harry murmurs. He pushes his hands up Liam’s legs, up the inside of his thigh until one hand is fitted loosely around Liam’s cock.

At first, he just looks, and Liam wants to whine and beg, but he stays still. “You’re not that bad either,” he says, ending it in a groan when Harry bends down to lick away the precome pooling at the tip of his cock.

Liam’s mind blanks out when Harry’s hot, warm mouth sinks down on his cock. It’s almost sinful, seeing Harry’s cherry red lips, straining around him, and Liam maybe should close his eyes. To make it last longer. But he wants to see, so he lifts himself up on his elbows, letting out moans every time Harry sucks, pulling off, so only the tip is in between his lips.

The sounds, wet sucking noises and quiet sighs from Harry, are dirty and absolutely wonderful.

His orgasm sneaks up on him, takes him by total surprise how sudden it is, so lost he is in the sight of Harry sucking him. His hips push up, deeper into Harry’s eager mouth, milking him through it. Closing his eyes, he collapses back on the sofa as Harry sucks him until he’s shivering and feeling wrung-out and sensitive.

Harry wipes his mouth and then smacks his lips together. Liam feels like his head is filled with soft candy cotton, and he’s a bit slow when he drags himself up, and pushes Harry back, and then climbs on top of him, one knee on either side of his thighs.

“Think you should fuck me now,” he decides, placing Harry’s hand on his arse, pleased by the surprised gasp Harry lets out. He wriggles a little, pushing Harry back so he can grind against him properly.

“We need lube and condoms, babe,” Harry says, voice rough. He does nothing to push Liam away, fingers digging in on his arse cheeks so hard Liam thinks he’ll have finger shaped bruises on him after they’re done.

Liam likes that; wants to see those marks all over his body, though they might show best on the soft, pale skin on his bum. His cock has started to thicken slightly again, and he wraps his arms around Harry’s shoulders as he rocks forward so the head drags wetly against Harry’s stomach.

He’s still sticky with come and from Harry’s mouth, and he likes that he’s messing Harry up. It’s too soon, but he can feel it, that he can go once more tonight.

His body wants it so, so much.

It’s almost too much, after coming once already. Harry’s not even come once, and Liam should probably that care of that. He should take care of Harry, and not just be so greedy that he’s about to rub off against the soft skin on Harry’s stomach, coming all over him.

Liam can’t stop looking at Harry’s mouth, his pink cheeks and dark, blown eyes, as he gives Harry something that reminds Liam of a lap dance.

“Bedroom,” Harry chokes out, and Liam whines when he lets go of him. “I’m going to come any minute if you keep that up.”

In a way, Liam wants that; wants to feel Harry come undone under him. But it’ll be even better with Harry’s cock in him, so he nods and lets himself be moved. Liam’s legs feel unstable as he stands up from Harry’s lap, holding his hand out to Harry.

Liam lets himself be pushed back on the bed, giggling when he bounces on the soft mattress. Harry shakes his head when Liam tries to drag him down too, missing the feel of Harry’s skin against his.

It’s a bit addictive.

“How do you want it?” Harry asks, opening the drawer on the nightstand and taking out a strip of condoms.

“Doesn't matter much,” Liam says, lifting himself up on his elbows. His cock is laying flat on his stomach, and his skin is flushed pink. He’s tempted to wrap a hand around himself when he really gets to see Harry naked, his long tanned legs and his thick cock.

Harry drops the items next to him, and knee walks up to him with a pleased smile on his lips. It should look ridiculous, his cock bobbing between his legs, but he still looks stunningly pretty.

He bends down to snog Liam, holding his hands on his cheeks as he slides his tongue deep. Then he pulls away, sitting back. “You want to roll over?”

Liam’s limbs feel soft when he does just that. And the bed is nice and soft under him. He lifts himself up on his elbows, and rests his weight on his lower arms – his cock is between his stomach and the dark silk sheets, and he’s got to stop himself from rutting down. Then he’d be the one to come on the spot.

Though, it’s really Harry’s turn. He should last longer the second time, too, but Liam feels a bit like a teenager. As if he could come over and over, until he can’t take anymore.

Then Harry’s hands are back on him, and Liam lets out a soft moan and closes his eyes. “Can’t wait to get my cock in you,” Harry murmurs, thumb brushing over Liam’s hole, pressing in slightly. It’s a bit too dry, but Liam still arches up, wanting more.

“I wouldn’t complain,” Liam mumbles, “If you got on with it.”

“Need to prep you first,” he says, hands leaving Liam’s skin. There’s a click as Harry opens the lube bottle.

“Yeah, I know,” Liam says, nodding.

Harry nods too, pausing. He’s on his knees beside Liam, and Liam can see him if he twists his head, looking concentrated and centered in on Liam. “You’ve done this before, right?”

It’s been some time since he’s done this, and Liam’s not even fingered himself after his last time with Louis. He’s not been in the mood, not until now.

Liam nods, not really wanting to think about Louis now. It’s still there in the back of his mind – it always will be – but now he’s with Harry. Luckily, Harry doesn’t ask anything more, maybe not wanting to know more.

His mouth drops open when Harry’s finger pushes in, carefully and slow, and slippery wet with lube. He’s missed this. The warm burn that spreads out in his body, and how he can feel himself relax a little with each push.

One finger isn’t that much to take, but when Harry adds another, Liam can feel the stretch of it. He can feel how wet he’s getting, cockhead pressed against his stomach, and he wants so much more than this.

He can’t imagine how good it’ll feel when he’s got Harry’s cock. It looked – _felt_ – big before.

Harry groans when he lifts his arse, trying to push back against him, working back on his fingers. Liam stills when Harry fits the third fingertip into him, teasing at his rim before he thrusts them in. Harder than before, and Liam chokes out a groan and closes his eyes.

“Look how well you take it,” Harry groans, fucking his fingers in deep.

“No, no, going to come,” Liam mumbles out when Harry crooks his fingers “Want your cock in me, please.”

“Like this?” Harry asks, holding his fingers deep as he waits for Liam’s answer. As if he’s supposed to be able to think like that. He keeps brushing over Liam’s prostate, causing his toes to curl.

“Anything,” Liam groans out, relaxing into the bed when Harry stops teasing him and pulls out. His breathing comes out in quick huffs, and his head is hanging forward. He feels like he’s barely holding on, close to just sinking into the bed with a sigh.

He watches as Harry rolls on the condom, slicking up with more lube. His cock is wonderful, Liam thinks, thick and long, and Liam clenches his arse when he thinks that as soon as it’s in him.

Harry’s weight settles on top of him, and if Liam weren't so desperate to get on with it, he’d tease Harry about how he’s a lot more smooth in bed than outside it. He’s not been about to fall out of bed once, which honestly Liam had thought was a possibility.

“Going to fuck you so good,” Harry mumbles as he shuffles closer. Liam tilts his arse up, as much as he can. With Harry on top of him, he's not able to do much than just lie there and wait.

“Come on,” he urges Harry on, his voice shaky.

Then Harry’s cockhead is pushing against his rim, slippery with lube, so it smears over his skin. There’s a steady push on his hole, and then the head pops in, pushing him open around it.

It’s a lot, Harry is big, and it burns a lot more than his fingers did. It’s still good – it’s just that it’s this sharp pain that mixes with the pleasure that makes his body confused to how he should feel. His cock is still in the game, and so is he; he just needs to moment to adjust, and then he’ll take the rest of Harry’s cock, too.

He really wants it.

“Breathe, babe,” Harry says, brushing his hand up Liam’s back.

Liam gasps when Harry moves just a little, and his cock slips a little deeper. It feels really nice; he feels like he’s burning up, and he needs more of that feeling. He pulls in a breath, and slowly lets it out.

“Go on,” he urges Harry on with, feeling like the tension in his body is slowly ebbing away with each breath.

“Okay?” Harry asks, holding himself still. Liam nods and is about to say something when Harry drags his cock out, almost all the way, and then thrusts in.

Instead, he just moans and drops his head forward. His body rocks against the bed, his cock drooling precome on the sheets.

“Fuck,” Liam blurts out when Harry figures out the right angle, his cock pressing wonderfully against Liam’s prostate.

“Good?” Harry asks, and Liam feels like laughing – or crying – because it feels _so_ good.

“Yes,” he settles for saying, when he really wants to write a song about Harry’s cock. His everything, really.

Liam’s boxed in, Harry’s knees on either side of him, thighs brushing Liam’s skin when he snaps his hips forward, hands besides his head. Liam feels safe there, and it’s thrilling not being able to move, Harry deciding the pace, and how hard. Deciding when he wants to tease Liam, slow it down, so he’s just grinding his hips in.

“So close,” Liam forces out, feeling his stomach twist hotly.

“Want to see your face,” Harry mumbles out, stilling much to Liam’s confusion, his head a bit slow when all he can focus on is the feeling of being filled again, and again.

But then he’s empty, and even more confused until Harry slaps his arse gently. “Roll over for me, love.”

Liam flops over on his back, dazed as he smiles up at Harry, his hair a mess of curls. He feels fond and turned on. So, so turned on that he’s going to come if he touches his cock now.

He’s still grinning dopily when Harry lies down beside him, and Liam glances down his body. Just a little, he’s puzzled why Harry’s lying down, just waiting.

They’re not done yet.

“You up for doing some riding?” Harry asks, holding loosely around his own cock, letting his hand slip up and down in a slow tease.

Liam nods eagerly, dragging himself up, and more or less falls into Harry’s lap. Harry laughs and steadies him with sure hands on his hips. “Careful, can’t have you fall on your head,” he says fondly.

Liam snorts out a giggle, shaking his head. “Like you’re one to talk.”

He’s relaxed all over, and as soon as he’s got Harry’s cockhead teasing against his rim, he drops down. It pushes a moan out of him, and he rests his hands on Harry’s chest.

First, he’s a bit wobbly, but then he starts riding Harry faster, lifting himself up and dropping down. It doesn’t take long for Liam to get to that same point when it feels like he’s about to shiver apart because he feels so good. He can feel himself tense with every bounce down on Harry’s dick.

When Harry wraps his hand around Liam’s cock, he comes with a near silent moan, eyes clenching shut. He stops moving, more or less, but Harry fucks him through it, holding onto his hips.

“Fuck,” Harry groans out, tilting his head back, his stomach tensing. He pushes deep, and holds Liam there as he spills in the condom.

Harry’s chest is heaving when he’s done. And if Liam hadn’t already come, the sight of Harry’s tattooed chest covered in Liam’s come would’ve pushed him over the edge.

Liam slides off of him, wincing when Harry’s cock slips free. It’s kind of weird afterwards, he reckons, but the soreness to his body is a really good feeling. He sighs when he lies back on the rumpled sheets, knowing that he’s messing them up, covered in come and sweat.

He couldn’t care less right now. He’s happy, but he’s quickly getting tired too now that he’s come. _Two_ times even.

He’s got a feeling he’s going to sleep well.

“Going to get us a flannel,” Harry tells him, patting Liam’s stomach gently. Liam nods; it’s probably a good idea.

He’s half-asleep when Harry gets back, but does his best to wipe himself off. Then he cuddles into Harry’s side, nose pushed into his hair, and arm wrapped around Harry’s waist, and falls fast asleep.

– – –

It takes him weeks to fully understand that the dreams are gone. Liam’s missing them even though he shouldn’t.

He’s been told his whole life that finding your soulmate should make you _whole_. It’s not the exactly like that; he really likes it with Harry, and that’s enough, but it’s not like he imagined.

What’s worse is that he’s still missing Louis. It feels like a part of him is missing, and it feels awful since he’s now dating Harry, calling him his boyfriend even.

Harry’s supposed to meet his mum this weekend, and he’s told her that he thinks Harry might be his soulmate.

Hopefully, he’s right this time.

It’s a big step for the two of them, and Liam’s thinking of his ex still. He’s the worst, and Harry deserves so much better.

He can’t help it, though. He wonders how Louis is doing. If he’s missing Liam. That he deep down wants Louis to miss him, only makes him feel worse, like he’s one step up from taking candy from kids.

He should want Louis to be happy, that should be enough for Liam. It’s not that he wants Louis to be unhappy either, he just wants Louis to be happy with him, like he used to be.

Liam does his best not to think about Louis, and it works fine. As long as he’s with Harry, that is.

It’s a shame that even tea reminds him of Louis, when he’s not.

– – –

Liam’s nervous, even though maybe it should be Harry that’s supposed to be the nervous one. It’s Liam’s parents they’re going to visit. He just wants his parents to like Harry, as much as he does. His quirky and lovely boyfriend, the first one he brings home.

It’s a bit early, maybe. They’ve only been officially dating for a bit more than a month, but they spend most of their free time together, and things are moving forward quickly. He’s more of less living with Harry, most his stuff at Harry’s place, but they’ve not talked about moving in together.

Maybe they should since that would mean less rent to pay for them both. It’s the practical, grown up thing to do. But Liam doesn’t want to rush Harry into anything, just because they might be soulmates.

More and more things are pointing at it, though Liam’s shameful feelings for Louis sometimes makes him feel like a cheater. He would never, ever do anything. He feels bad just thinking about Louis, and it’s not even dirty thoughts.

He just misses the little things, like Louis’ sharp smile, and even his bloody pinches.

But now Liam’s back in Wolverhampton, with Harry who doesn’t know much more about Louis than that Liam was in love with him. Sometimes he wonders if Harry knows that Liam isn’t quite over Louis yet.

Sometimes Harry’s smile is a bit dimmed, a bit tired, and Liam’s not brave enough to have that talk with him, too afraid that it would mean losing Harry. It scares him a lot.

Liam’s mum has been insistent too, telling him to bring Harry home every time he’s talked to her on the phone. And then Harry one time picked up when Liam’s mum was calling, he couldn’t say no to her.

Liam would’ve been upset with him if Harry hadn’t looked so happy about it. He still looks excited to be there, in the town where Liam once lived, wishing to meet Harry. Dreaming about him.

The garden is covered in snow, and Liam’s got mittens on when he turns to Harry and gives him a quick kiss on the lips.

“Please don’t don’t look at any baby pictures,” he mumbles, shaking his head when Harry pouts.

“I can’t say no to your mum,” Harry says. “Can’t be rude to her, Liam. She’ll hate me forever.” There’s snow in his hair, and they should have probably go inside.

“She’ll love you forever for taking care of her baby boy,” Liam says, and he means it.

Maybe he shouldn’t be so bloody nervous. He gives Harry’s hand a squeeze and pushes the doorbell.

“Baby boy,” Harry murmurs, wiggling his eyebrows. His voice has that suggestive tone, and Liam knows what he’s thinking about.

“Don’t call me that in front of my mum,” Liam groans, hearing footsteps from inside.

“If you say so,” Harry says, and then the lock is turned, and there’s not the time for any more discussion. Liam thinks he’ll hear about it later, and he doesn’t mind. Not if Harry calls him a baby boy in _that_ voice.

Harry could probably call him anything, if he sounds like that.

“Oh, you’re here,” his mum says, her smile warm as she opens up the door. “Welcome in boys, you’re almost covered in snow, aren’t you?

As soon as they’re both out of their coats, and their scarves and mittens are hanged up to dry, Liam’s mum pulls him into a hug. It’s been too long since he’s seen her – he’s glad he moved to London, but being away from his family is still hard.

Her eyes are shining with tears when he pulls back, taking Harry’s hand.

“Meet Harry, mum,” he says proudly, glancing at his Harry, who holds out his hand to shake Karen’s.

Karens laughs and moves in to hug him too, and Harry bends his back to hug back, still holding onto Liam. Harry’s a lot taller than her, his posture even worse than usual.

“You should show Harry around,” Karen says when the hug his over, and Harry’s told her what a lovely home she has. When he’s only seen a small part of it, but his mum seems charmed by his politeness. “I’ll go make some tea for us. Your dad’s going to be home in about an hour.”

Liam can’t believe he’s bringing his boyfriend home, that his dad is probably going to give him a stern talk. He nods and guides Harry through the house.

“Look at that,” Harry says, stopping in front of one of the pictures on the wall in the hall. It’s the one where Liam’s thirteen, and standing with his foot on a football, wanting to learn so he could be good for his soulmate.

Liam wonders if Harry’s got any photos of him like that, maybe even in a cute footie uniform. “Told you not to look at any photos,” he teases. He doesn’t mind, not really.

“You were adorable,” Harry murmurs, dimples deep his his cheeks.

“Hey,” Liam complains, batting the backside of his hand against Harry’s stomach. Careful not to really hurt him, of course. “I’m _still_ adorable.”

Harry tries to keep his face neutral, bland as he shrugs, But he breaks out into a wide smile, and Liam’s whole body feels warm. He slips his arms around Harry’s waist and leans in.

“Let’s go find my mum,” Liam says, after a quick snog against the wall. “You can’t charm her if you’re trying to get me out of my pants. In the bloody hall, even. “

“Hey,” Harry says, dragging the word out long. “It was you that started it.”

Karen smiles at them when they tumble into the kitchen, half-wrestling. “Boys,” she says fondly and puts the kettle on the table.

Liam just shrugs, and lets go of Harry. At least, now his mum doesn’t know that his clothes partly sits wrong on him because Harry’s got a hard time keeping his hands to himself, even if Liam’s mum was just in the other room.

“Yeah,” Harry agrees, nodding. “Boys,” he tuts, and ruffles Liam’s already messy hair.

“Like you’re one to talk,” Liam huffs, kissing his mum’s cheek when he takes the mug she’s holding out to him. “You’re a boy if you’ve forgotten about it.”

Harry smirks, and Liam just knows he’s going to say something about his dick. How Liam knows very well that he’s a boy, thank you. Liam shakes his head, trying to tell Harry not to mention what they do in the bedroom, and other places.

“Mum,” Liam rushes to say, “You want some help in the kitchen, making dinner before dad comes home?”

“We’re happy to help,” Harry says, sounding honest. Like a proper gentleman, and not someone who’s got a dirty mouth – that makes Liam blush, but also climb into Harry’s lap, and take him up on his words.

“You’ve picked a good one,” Karen decides, starting to tell them what she’s got planned.

Liam likes that idea – that he’s picked Harry, and not just fallen in love with him because they’ve this idea that they’re soulmates. Sure, their biology tells them that they fit, but that’s not enough to make it work.

That’s just passion or compatibility. Liam doesn’t think biology is the reason his mum seems to like Harry so much, giggling like a schoolgirl when Harry jokes with her. That’s just because Harry is a good guy.

Liam can’t help wondering if she would’ve liked Louis as much. But he quickly dismisses the thought, because it doesn't matter.

The dinner goes great, Harry complementing Karen’s cooking, and talking about work with Liam’s dad. Liam mostly smiles softly as he takes in Harry in his childhood home, so at ease. He tells them of starting his own business with a little – a lot, he says – from his mum and stepdad, and Liam’s full of pride.

Though, he hasn’t decided what to do himself, the job at the coffee shop just a first step to something else. Something that makes it easier to drag himself out of bed, and out of Harry’s warm flat. It’s worse when he’s got to get up before Harry, too.

Their schedules not matching causes him to spend some night alone, and that gives him time to get started on one of his dreams. It’s easier to look forward to other things now that he’s found Harry.

He’s been writing a lot; the heartbreak he felt after losing Louis a huge part of that. The songs are both sappy and sad, and maybe not the best he’s ever written. But they’re personal, and they mean a lot to him.

Not as much as Louis did, but that would’ve been ridiculous since he was in love with Louis.

So far, he’s not shown them to Harry. It feels a bit like rubbing Louis in Harry’s face. Though he knows that Liam sings. It’s hard to miss when he it all the time; in the shower, and when he’s making them tea. Silly little made up songs that don’t mean anything at all.

There is more than one song about Harry, filled with hope, and the feeling of falling in love. Liam thinks the songs fit together somehow, complements each other, so it gets more interesting.

If anything, he should show Harry those songs; he would probably stuff Liam full with cupcakes as a form of appreciation.

And do other things, to and for him, too.

Of course, his mum takes out the family album, after serving them pudding, and Liam gets to sit there and blush while Harry coos at the pictures of him with chubby cheeks.

Harry teases him about how sweet he was until they riffle past his teens, and that one picture at his sixteenth birthday party. Liam looks close to tears, though he’s got a huge cake with his name in front of him.

Harry clears his throat and strokes his fingers over the photo. He doesn't look shocked by the loneliness in the picture, and it makes Liam wonder if Harry’s dreamed about it.

If he wasn’t as alone as he thought back then. If Harry felt sad for him.

“I think I would’ve liked you back then, too,” Harry says softly, his smile matching his tone.

Liam can hear his mum sniffle, but he doesn't focus on her. Not this time, when he knows her tears are because of happiness, that Liam’s past that phase.

That part of his life is over; he’s got the most amazing boyfriend, and several coworkers that he calls his friends. He’s not alone anymore.

“You would’ve come to my party?” Liam asks though he knows that Harry will say yes.

Harry nods and flicks to the next page. “Course I would’ve.”

It doesn't feel like a lie, and for a moment Liam wonders what it would’ve been to meet Harry as a kid, when it all started. If things would’ve been much different.

Though, that would’ve meant not even meeting Louis. And Liam doesn't want to be without those memories either.

“We’ll throw you a party next year,” Harry says easily.

Liam’s not had a birthday party since that day, and he knows he’ll be a ball of nerves that nobody will come. But he wants to spend his birthday with Harry, though it’s months away, and it’s too early to plan for things like that.

– – –

It’s started to slowly thaw outside, and while the nights are still cold, it’s spring time. Harry’s still a big part of his life, and Liam’s stopped looking for clues about Harry not being his soulmate.

Things are moving along not so slowly, and while it’s not official that Liam lives with Harry, he has the key to Harry’s flat, and his mum sends his mail to Harry’s address.

With so much going on, both of them working full time, and fitting dates in between, it takes Liam some time to realise that it’s been months since he last watched a game on the telly, and though Harry never mentioned soccer more than in the passing, Liam thinks that they should do tonight.

He hums to himself as he putters around in Harry’s kitchen, more familiar there now than in his own.

Harry is his soulmate, so he should like soccer. It’s the one thing that Liam’s been sure about the whole time, even when the images from his dreams were contrary and confusing. Harry is a bit weird, though, but in a good way that makes Liam like him even more.

So he bunks up with snacks, everything ready when Harry comes home from work.

“You’re an angel,” Harry says, hugging him warmly. His cheek is cold from outside when he presses it to Liam’s cheek, and Liam shivers and pokes him in the side.

“You’re cold,” he complains, unwinding the scarves around Harry’s neck. “I thought we could have a night in, though I know you’re dying to visit that exhibit, with that artist, you know…” he trails off, wrinkling his forehead as he tries to remember the name of the artist.

Her art _thingy_ looks strange to him, but Harry told him she was good. Bummer that he can’t remember her name.

“Liam,” Harry says fondly, shaking his head. “You’re never going to get it right, are you?”

Liam huffs, pretend affronted though Harry is right. “I’m right plenty of times.”

“You’re right where you’re supposed to be anyway,” Harry says, and Liam’s heart swells, if that’s a real thing. It feels like it anyway, like his heart is full of warmth.

He hopes Harry likes his plans for the night, though it’s nothing fancy. It’s just cheap beer and a game on the telly, but Liam’s had some of his best dates in life, just like this.

Only they weren’t with Harry, so this a yet another first for them.

“Thought we could watch the game,” Liam says, and settles down on the sofa next to Harry, feet on the table.

Harry frowns at his feet, and grouses, “That’s unsanitary, Liam.”

“It’s not,” Liam counters, not moving when he’s so comfortable. Harry’s slowly warming up next to him, and his thigh fits nicely under Liam’s hand. “Give me the remote, and stop it, I’ve my socks on.”

At least, he’s not bumping over the two bottles of beer – that Liam’s put on coasters – or the bowl of crisps. His feet don’t even smell bad, and he changed his socks this morning. The first dates, he would’ve taken them down, but it’s not the first time they’ve had this talk, and in the end, Harry tends to put his own feet up, too.

“What game?” Harry asks belatedly, when he’s stopped pouting at Liam’s feet.

“The _game_ ,” Liam repeats with a little eye roll, and takes the remote that Harry offers him.

Harry looks confused. “What game?” He repeats, swatting his thigh. “A game of cricket, is that what you’re talking about.

Liam laughs and nods. “Yes, a game of cricket.” Like it’s even season. Sometimes Harry’s so silly.

It’s when Liam puts on the telly and switches to the correct channel, that Liam feels like there’s something wrong with his bond with Harry. And he wonders if he’s done the same mistake.

Harry doesn't look overly excited by the sight of the players warming up. Though, he nods and says, “I’ve wondered about the lack of soccer talk from you.” As if he’s never really cared for it himself, not with the passion that Liam was expecting him to.

Doubt is the worst feeling in the world, and he can’t believe he’s put himself in this situation once again. But Liam’s not dreaming anymore, and it’s been months. He’s only had one or two dreams a week, that he can remember, and they’ve all been his.

Now that he’s started thinking about it; there are more things that don’t fit into the bigger picture that he’s built of his soulmate. What about all the kids, the boys and girls that repeatedly popped up in his dreams.

Harry has a sister, yes, but she’s older.

There’s more, and Liam feels almost nauseous thinking about it.

It could be that there’s something wrong with him, or his soulmate. His bond to whoever really is his soulmate might be dysfunctional, that is a thing that happens.

It’s yet another thing his teacher glossed over.

That would mean never meeting the one that’s supposed to be his soulmate, but Liam can live with that. He’s got Harry now, and as long as Harry doesn’t figure it out, Liam gets keep him to himself.

They’re both happy, after all.

Whoever stopped Harry’s dreams, which could be any customer coming into the bakery – even a tourist that never comes back – might not come back into his life. Not unless Harry starts looking for him.

What’s different about him and Harry, than him and Louis, though. If he broke up with Louis over this, shouldn’t he dump Harry, too?

Isn’t that what’s most fair. Both to Louis and to Harry.

It’s not a discussion for tonight. Now Liam just wants to enjoy the evening with his boyfriend, no matter if he’s not meant for Liam.

He keeps his hand on Harry’s thigh, brushing his fingertips along the inseam of his jeans. He’s distracted and mostly hums when Harry talks to him about his day, absentmindedly watching the telly.

Liam might just be overreacting, though, so he decides to let it go. Not think about it until he’s got any reason to believe otherwise.

“So,” Liam says and leans his head on Harry’s shoulder. “Which team is your favourite, feels like I should know that about my boyfriend.”

It’s too quiet in the room, and definitely too few swear words for it to be quite right. Quite the same as Liam’s used to – though he knows he shouldn’t compare this to his nights in with Louis.

Just because he feels the same for Harry, the same intense love, it’s nothing alike. They’re two different people, who Liam just happen to stumble across and fall in love with too hard.

“Wait,” Harry mumbles, looking between Liam and the telly where the players are running after the ball. “I thought soccer was _your_ thing.”

“No,” Liam blurts out, feeling cold all of a sudden. _Not once again_. He just told himself he was just making things worse by thinking about it. “I like soccer, but it’s not my thing. It’s yours.”

“Um,” Harry says, taking his hand as if he can feel that Liam needs something to hold onto. Might be how hard he was just gripping Harry’s thigh, not even aware of it until Harry coaxes his hand free. “I’m pretty sure that was supposed to be my line.”

“What?” Liam mutters, muting the television so he can think.

“Yeah,” Harry says, shrugging as if his words don’t have Liam’s chest feeling tight like he’s got a hard time breathing. It’s like he hardly cares, and Liam can’t understand that he’s merely puzzled.

“But I’ve always thought you’re supposed to be a fan of football,” Liam mumbles, mostly to himself.

“Because of your dreams?” Harry wonders, and at that point Liam knows they should have talked more about their dreams.

That’s mostly Liam’s fault, though, since he’s got a tendency to feel a slight panic just thinking about going through yet another break-up because of them. But now he’s only made it worse, for both him and Harry, since they’ve dragged it out to a point where it’ll hurt even more if it ends.

Liam’s too good at distracting Harry with kisses and blowjobs, the times Harry’s tried to have a real talk to him about it.

Maybe Liam should have learned his mistake not to fall for the wrong kind of boys. Fit, lovely boys with soulmates just waiting for them.

“Let’s just go to bed,” Liam says, standing up and holding out his hand to Harry.

Harry frowns, and looks at the silent television where the players are rushing around in euphoria, in a post goal celebration. “But what about the game. And I still don’t know which team you root for.”

Liam’s about to say Doncaster, but it’s not his team. It’s Louis’ team, and it shouldn’t be the first thing that pops up in his head. Surely not, when it’s months since he last heard his voice, shouting at the telly.

“Not in the mood anymore,” Liam says with a little shrug, trying to pretend nothing is bothering him. Any other time, he knows that Harry would’ve used Liam mentioning not being in the mood, to make a pun about sex and how Liam always wants it from him.

Now he doesn’t even look tempted.

“If you say so,” Harry says, sounding as confused still. It takes Liam pulling lightly at his hand for him to get up, but then he follows him into the bedroom.

Harry still looks like he wants to talk.

Most time, he’s ready to stop doing anything just for a few kisses. This time is no different. Liam’s grateful for it; he’s not sure how he would’ve coped with Harry asking him more questions now.

He undresses in silence, and then pulls Harry’s t-shirt over his head, and sinks to his knees and starts unbuttoning his jeans. He’s quick to suck Harry in, hands on his hips. Harry’s not hard yet, not without no build up or teasing, like usual, but he murmurs out his name softly and shifts his body closer to Liam.

It doesn’t take long for Harry to swell in his mouth, and for those wonderful breathy moans starting to slip out of his mouth. It seems like he’s trying to hold back, so Liam closes his eyes and moves in faster, ignoring the discomfort of his kneecaps against the hard floor.

When Harry tries to talk to him, Liam just takes him in deeper, desperate to stop thinking.

He tries not to think that this might be the last time; he knows Harry won’t let him get out of talking tomorrow – Liam knows he’s acting proper weird, jumpy and tense, over such a small thing as football.

Only, the soulmate of his dreams, doesn’t think football is a small thing. That’s the whole point of it all.

After Harry comes, he kisses Liam and wanks him off, both of them on the floor. It’s quick and rough, a bit too dry. It’s desperate, and Liam hates that he thinks that it might be a last time.

He still comes, choking out Harry’s name.

Liam falls into a restless sleep afterwards, Harry’s hand warm on his stomach and his snores in his ear.

– – –

The bed is empty when Liam wakes up, late enough that he first has to think about whether or not he’s got an early shift. Think about if he forgot to set his phone last night, in his rush to get Harry in bed, the television not even turned off as he dragged Harry to the bedroom.

They never even made it to the bed, not until after they both were ready to sleep.

First when he’s mentally gone through his schedule, he wonders where Harry is. It’s his flat, so it’s not like Liam thinks he’s walked out on him.

It’s not like he’s got any reason; Liam’s been faithful and has done his best to be the boyfriend that Harry deserves. Save from some thoughts about Louis that he shouldn’t have had, he’s done well.

Not counting the fact that Harry might’ve figured out that Liam wasn’t the reason he’s stopped dreaming.

It’s not usual for Harry to be up before him; his favourite way to wake is up with mutual orgams, and then cuddling close as an octopus, until Liam’s too hot underneath the covers. It’s nowhere as nice waking up alone.

He can hear Harry in the flat, noises coming from the kitchen. So, Harry’s _not_ left him.

Sighing deeply, he drags himself out of bed and puts on a pair of grey joggers that’s folded on a chair next to the bed.

He’s still not sure what he should do about Harry if he should suggest a clean break – though, Liam’s learned by now that even a clean break is a painful one, and he doesn’t particularly want to put Harry through that. Once was bad enough.

It smells like fresh scones when Liam mans up and goes to find Harry. The television is turned off, and the table is clean from bottles and crips. It looks like yesterday never happened, but Liam can feel it in his bones.

He’s not sure what he expected. Maybe he didn’t expect Harry to yell, but Liam didn’t think he would look like every other morning they spend together, puttering around in the kitchen with his hair in a bun.

Harry’s singing along with the radio, and Liam’s almost overcome with fondness. Harry’s wearing his limegreen apron, and it’s so ugly but it still looks good on him.

“Morning,” Liam murmurs, and feels more awkward than the first morning he woke up in Harry’s bed. Then he was pretty sure he was going to stay around.

They eat the breakfast, but Harry’s more silent than Liam’s used to him being; it’s like he’s trying to figure out what to say.

Liam can’t figure out his own thought, so he understands the uncertainty. It’s hard to bring up. It’s easy to eat his scones with strawberry jam, and pretend that everything is _fine_. That Liam didn’t act weird last night.

“Okay,” Liam says, and nods. He’s going to do this now. “We should talk about last night.”

“I don’t think it’s such a big thing,” Harry says, wiping away some crumbs from his cheek.

Liam huffs out a laugh, though it’s nowhere near being funny. “So you think me dreaming about a soulmate with a huge love for football, and you doing the same means that we should be together.”

“We like each other,” Harry points out, shrugging like it’s that easy. “We fit, I don’t see why we should be so bothered by it.”

Liam grimances. “You’ve any idea how many football loving blokes you can find in this bloody town,” he says, not sure why he’s pushing. Why he’s trying to convince Harry that they’re not soulmates.

Might be because he still feels that pull to Louis, and that makes him less sure that Harry’s the right one. Shouldn't he feel more for Harry, than for Louis, if Harry really was his soulmate?

Right then, Liam hates the idea of soulmates, cursing every dream he’s ever had. He still can’t hate his soulmate, no matter who he is.

It’s not his fault that Liam’s a failure.

“Why are you not dreaming then?” Harry asks, slumping further down in his chair, shoulders slouched. Liam sits tensely. “If I know I’ve met my soulmate on the tube, or whatever you’re implying, why are you not dreaming anymore.”

Liam shrugs. “You know that not all people have working bonds.”

Harry looks devastated, and Liam wants to comfort him, hold him close until he feels better. But they have their first proper fight.

“Harry,” Liam says softly. “I know that you still dream. I heard you talk in your sleep the other night; you said something about the ref being dead wrong. I was sure it was your dream, but if you’re not the one loving footie, why are you dreaming?”

“Liam,” Harry mumbles, “I won’t leave you for someone else. The dreams don’t mean anything. I just want you.”

“It didn’t work with Louis, did it,” Liam mutters, ignoring his own rule not to talk about Louis with Harry. Not if he didn’t have to.

“Well,” Harry says, and starts collecting plates and carrying them to the sink. They clatter loudly when he puts them down, not as careful as he usually is. “I’m not Louis, and I’m not letting you leave me just because you think it’s the _right_ thing to do.’”

“You might have someone else out there,” Liam insists. “No, you _probably_ have someone who’s better than me.”

“You want to get back together with Louis?” Harry asks, back turned to him, voice tense.

“What?” Liam blurts out, standing up so fast that his chair nearly tips backwards. “No,” he says, ignoring that it’s not quite true. But it’s true in the way that he doesn’t _want_ to break up with Harry to have Louis instead.

He wants them both. But that’s a stupid thought, totally unrealistic. It’s selfish of him to even think about it.

“I know you miss him,” Harry tells him, turning so he’s leaning against the counter. He crosses his arms, and give Liam a wry smile. “I’m not the only one talking in my sleep, babe.”

“He was my friend,” Liam says, taking careful steps closer to Harry, until he’s touching his arm gently. “Of course I miss him.”

“I still think we should stay together,” Harry says and opens his arms so Liam can sink into him.

Liam loves that Harry fights for him, but he hates himself for wondering why Louis didn’t do it. Why Harry can ignore the dreams, because he’s with Liam.

It feels great to be enough, though he’s not sure if it’s really enough for them to stay together. If it’s right for Harry.

“You’ll leave me, though,” Liam mumbles, his nose pressed into Harry’s curls, smelling of cedar wood and vanilla.

Harry shakes his head, and says, “No, no, I won’t.” It sounds like he believes it, when he says it, and Liam can’t do more to push him away.

Even though maybe he should.

“You want to go for a run?” Harry asks, bumping his nose against Liam’s cheek. “Get those thoughts out of your lovely head.”

Liam smiles wryly, not sure how it’s all going to end. But he’ll try to enjoy it as long as he can. “I’ve a better idea how to spend the day.” He wriggles his eyebrows, giving Harry’s bum a cheeky pinch.

“Oh,” Harry murmurs, perking up.”I think I’ll like your idea better.”

They don’t even make it to the bedroom, the counter good enough to make out against, and the share messy handjobs leaned against it. It’s good and fast and Liam’s so loud he’s sure the neighbours can hear him when Harry rubs his thumb over Liam’s sticky cockhead.

Harry laughs when he pulls Liam to the floor, and kisses him once more, both their bums bare and dicks still out.

Liam’s head feels a bit clearer afterwards, like he’s ready to put those thoughts behind him. It won’t always be easy, but Harry's’ worth the fight.

And his heartbreak too, since he’s sure he’s not the one that might find someone new. He’s had his chances, and though his dreams have stopped, he’s still not found his true soulmate.

He doesn’t even want to, anymore.

If Liam is gotten his way, he’d be in bed, and not cuddling on a hard floor. But that would mean moving, and Harry’s chest is an okay pillow luckily. Liam’s just glad not to be alone.

– – -

After that day, Liam starts thinking differently about his bond with Harry. They’ve a bond, a great bond that means a lot to him, though it might not be the kind that Liam thought about as a kid.

The thing is that it’s okay. It’s nice, if sometimes a bit rocky since Liam just waits for Harry to meet his soulmate. He wants Harry to be happy, loving him so much that it’s the most important thing.

Even if it’s not with him Harry’s happy with, Liam wants him to be happy.

There are nights Harry dreams, and if Liam’s awake, he can tell by the smile on Harry’s lip that it’s that kind of dream. He’s jealous, though there’s no one in Harry’s life to be jealous of. He’s the one in Harry’s bed.

When Harry wakes up, groggy and slow, he tells Liam about the dreams, not wanting to hide something from Liam. It hurts, hearing Harry talk about someone else’s dreams in a sleep slow voice.

It’s a thing they share now, and that makes them stronger, Liam’s sure. He rather talk about it, than wondering what’s in Harry’s dreams.

In return, he starts talking about Louis, something he’s avoided so far, and it’s almost like Harry gets to know Louis, from how much he tells him. It’s good sharing, and after that, he feels less bad for feeling the way he does for Louis.

Harry knows, and while Harry’s never had a long time boyfriend before Liam, he seems to understand that loving sometimes just doesn’t go away at once always. And that it doesn’t mean that Liam loves Harry less.

It’s not like Louis is in their lives anyway; he’s no competition for Liam’s affection when Harry has it all.

It might have been harder to be so honest when it’s his biggest secret, his most shameful one. If he didn’t know that Harry has his own football loving bloke out there, waiting for him.

Not that he believes that Louis is waiting for _him_ , that’s silly. It’s nearing a year since he’s moved to London, and he’s still working at the same coffee shop, tinkering with his songs when he’s alone at home. Just because he’s the same as when he met Louis, that doesn’t mean Louis hasn’t moved on.

And wasn’t that why Liam broke up with him. To give him the freedom to find his soulmate, since he knew that Louis never would’ve tried with someone else while dating Liam.

He’s heard of people leaving their families, just like that, when they met their soulmate. So convinced that it was the right thing to do. But that’s not Louis.

The other reason, the one that didn’t feel so important right then, was for him to find his own soulmate. Though he didn’t want that at first. Now that didn’t happen either.

But he found Harry, and that means so much to him.

And so he tells Harry, one night in bed when Liam’s once again been reminded of Louis at work.

Afterwards, Liam burrows down next to Harry and falls asleep. His mind is clear, and his dreams don't mean a thing.

– – –

Liam’s not seen Louis once since their breakup, and it’s a good thing even though it hurts. It should be easier to stop feeling things for him if he’s not around.

That doesn’t mean that he doesn’t want to see Louis. Even if he can’t kiss him, now that he’s with Harry. Something he doesn’t regret for a moment either, no matter how confusing it is that he’s got feelings for two boys now. Something he never thought would happen to him.

He just wants to talk to Louis and make him laugh, like Liam was the best thing ever.

Liam’s stopped hoping for Louis to visit him at work, and maybe rekindle that friendship. Louis never promised him that, so it shouldn’t upset him that he hasn’t.

It’s chance that they bump into each other when Liam and Harry are at M&S shopping for dinner the next day. Louis is by biscuits, on the way to the checkout, and Liam comes to a sudden stop when he sees him. Harry’s slower to stop, looking around him until he realises that Liam’s staring at someone else, though he doesn't know who it is.

Why Liam’s so pale, all of a sudden, must make him wonder.

Louis looks the same, his hair a bit longer and more unruly. He’s still as pretty, and perfect, and Liam hates himself for thinking so when Harry’s still talking to him about the pros of kale. There’s some in their basket, and Liam’s promised to try it, though he thinks he rather eat anything else.

The few steps up to Louis feels hard to take, and if he weren't so close, Liam would think about turning around. He’s not a coward, so he keeps on walking until he’s close enough to talk without having to shout.

Louis might yell at him, he realises too late. Louis might be horribly mad at him still, and does Liam want to know that. It’s too late to do something about it now, Harry’s got that adorable scrunched nose he gets when he’s confused, and he’s looking curiously at Louis.

Louis, who’s not saying anything. He’s noticed them, though he pretends to read the text on a biscuit thin. It’s not even Louis’ favourite kind.

“Hi,” Liam says, stiffly. He feels like dropping Harry’s hand, for some reason he’s ashamed that he’s moved on to someone new. But for all he knows, Louis is happily in love with someone new, too.

Louis doesn’t say anything, looking a bit pale on his cheeks as he gives Harry a long look. Liam wants to ask him so many things, and maybe most of all, if he’s kept Liam’s number, and if he still loves Liam.

If he ever _really_ did, or if he now knows how it is to be in love for real. He wants to ask if Louis has found his soulmate and if he’s better than Liam.

“Oh,” Harry mumbles, holding out his hand for Louis to shake. Louis just stares at him, a displeased frown on his face. “You’re _Louis_.”

Liam wonders how much he’s talked about Louis, really, for Harry to just know that.

Louis eyes his hand skeptically, but takes it and gives it a lazy shake.

“How have you been?” Liam asks, too curious to walk away.

“Clearly not a good as you,” Louis says, voice sarcastic as he puts back the biscuits.

“Louis,” Liam says, feeling bad that he’s there holding hands with his boyfriend. “I don’t want to fight. Not here.” _Not anywhere._

“Sorry,” Louis mutters and shakes his head. “I'm a dick, you know me.”

Liam nods and lets out a short laugh since there’s a weird feeling in the air. It’s not funny in a ‘ha ha’ way, but there’s too much tension, and Liam doesn’t feel quite comfortable, though he’s with two of his absolute favourite people in the world.

And Louis is a bit of a dick sometimes, but he’s a loving dick when he wants to be. He’s always been to Liam, at least.

“You should introduce us, Liam,” Louis says, and gives Harry a wry smile. “If you’re dating someone, and he knows about me, I should at least know his name.”

Liam nods towards Harry, and says, “This is Harry, and I think you’ve guessed that he’s my boyfriend already.”

Louis looks like he’s not sure how he’s supposed to react. So many emotions flashing past on his face; jealousy, doubt, shock. And a small ounce of pride; like he wants Liam to be happy, as much as Liam wants him to be happy. Though Liam doesn’t have to see Louis with someone else, so it’s probably harder for Louis.

It’s weird that he’s kind of happy, at a shop bumping into his ex. But Harry and Louis ARE both there, and now that the nerves are not twisting in his stomach anymore, he likes to have them both there.

“And this is Louis,” Liam says to Harry, looking between the two of them. “As you guessed.”

It takes a few minutes, and Liam has to drag answers out of Louis, but then Louis starts to look less shocked to see Liam. His smile turns warmer, and he stops looking at Harry as if he’s dirt on his shoes.

Then comes a question that makes him remember why this should be weirder than it feels.

“And is he your soulmate?” Louis asks, and a lot of people would find that invasive, but Liam understands why Louis wants to know.

Liam shrugs and looks down. “It’s not always things are that easy, you know that.”

“That wasn’t a yes, Liam,” Louis pushes, and picks up his basket as if he’s ready to end their chat.

Louis frowns and looks colder and more tense at once. Liam doesn’t know what he did that made him lose that sweetness, just a hint of it, and look sharp at once.

“It wasn’t a yes,” Liam says, though he doesn’t think this is the right time or place to discuss this.

People are rushing past them, nobody paying them any attention. Still, it feels weird to talk about this, knowing that someone could hear.

“Good thing you did,” Louis mutters, and drops the thin with biscuits in his basket, very passive aggressive. “Breaking up with me, only to date a bloody hipster.”

“It’s not like that,” Liam says, hoping that Louis could leave Harry out of it all. It’s so not his fault that Liam’s life is a mess.

“And I’m not a hipster,” Harry says with a little shrug. It’s not quite true, Liam thinks, but he’s fond of the unusual fashion choices Harry makes, and his love for everything living.

When Louis huffs and rolls his eyes, it looks like he means the word as the worst kind of insult. It’s weird, since he at first didn’t seem to hate Harry that much, not until he found out that Liam’s settled down with someone else just like him, not his soulmate.

Though, that makes sense. He can understand that Louis is upset by him thinking Harry was enough, when he wasn’t. Though it’s not like that at all.

“Are you dating someone?” Liam asks, not sure if he’s hoping to get a yes or no as an answer.

He should be a better person, and really want Louis to have found his soulmate.

Louis shrugs and pulls a face. “No, I’m not.” He smirks. “It’s not like it matters who you’re dating now, it seems. So maybe I should get out there. Plenty of lads in London.”

Liam nods and pinches his lips together, while Harry gives Louis a bright smile.

“Sounds like a good plan,” Harry says as if doesn’t notice that Louis doesn’t even look at him anymore.

Liam would’ve thought he’d be more bothered by meeting Liam’s ex, but he seems almost fascinated by Louis.

Liam feels uneasy under Louis’ stare, shifting from one foot to the other, restless. “You shouldn’t be alone,” he says, smiling carefully.

Louis huffs and rolls his eyes. He looks faintly amused, maybe by the absurdity of the situation.

“Maybe I could help,” Harry offers, nodding to himself. Probably mentally going through everybody he knows, trying to figure out who he could set Louis up with. “Might know someone you like.”

He’s a social butterfly, so he knows a lot of people. But out of those Liam’s met so far, which is just a small part, not one of them seems right for Louis.

“Someone like Liam, I take it,” Louis says, raising his eyebrows.

“Oh,” Harry says, a lot less awkward that Liam feels. But it’s his boyfriend that’s talking to his ex-boyfriend, about him. “That makes sense.”

“It does, yeah,” Louis says, still with an edge to his voice. “But I guess you don’t have any Liam’s to share, right?”

Liam feels weird inside, thinking about what Louis’ words _could_ mean. He knows that it’s not like Louis means that he’s the Liam that Louis wants to Harry to share – just that it should be someone _like_ Liam.

But Liam’s brain has its own ideas.

He clears his throat. “I think we should go,” he says, not wanting Louis to think he’s running away from him. But he really needs to be somewhere else.

Harry nods his head twice, shifting closer to Liam. “It was nice meeting you.”

“Take care of your boy,” Louis says, turning to Harry with a stern look.

It sounds final, and Liam’s heart clenches as Louis walks away. Of course, they end up in the same line, and Liam has to stare at the back of his head the whole time.

Liam’s not any closer to having Louis as his friend, and Louis hasn’t met his soulmate yet.

That night, he dreams of Louis, with Harry curled up to his back. In his dream, everything is okay; there are no weird feelings getting in the way, and he gets to have everything he wants.

– – –

Liam’s gotten used to Harry’s dreams, so it’s strange when Harry stops talking about them with him. At first, he thinks it might have to do with Louis, that Harry is more jealous than Liam first thought.

“You know,” Liam says, as he stands on his tiptoes to take down a tea mug from the cupboard. “It’s been days since you last told me about your dreams. I just wanted to make sure that you’re not upset with me.”

Harry wrinkles his forehead, looking confused. Then his mouth drops open, eyes widening as he drops down on the nearest chair. He’s got a spatula in his hand, and flour in his hair.

“I’ve _not_ had any dreams,” Harry says, looking at the spatula as if it’s got all the answers in the world.

Liam’s fingers nearly slip on his tea mug, and he sets in down on the counter before he drops it; hands shaking. He doesn’t like what Harry’s implying.

Nothing good can come from Harry not dreaming anymore. Liam really thought he was going to get to keep Harry longer than this.

It’s too soon, and Liam can feel his mood swing from happy, warm and safe – to unsure and maybe even mad.

Harry told him he didn’t want anyone else. And now it seems like he’s stumbled across his soulmate anyway.

 _Who could it even be?_ They’ve been pretty holed up at home the last week, Harry’s cold causing them to cuddle under a blanket on the sofa more than anything.

He’s been at work, though, and it was where Liam met Harry. It could be like that again. Or, it could be someone they met when they were out shopping.

It could be anyone, or could be one of the best people Liam’s ever met.

“Louis,” Liam breathes out, squeezing his eyes shut. It’s just so unfair.

Harry’s dreams remind him of one thing, one person, he now realises. It’s Louis.

Has he just been a part of getting Louis and Harry together? The universe has really played the worst kind of game on him, in that case.

“What?” Harry says, clearly not connecting the dots – how they met Louis, just a week ago, and that Louis is a football loving bloke. That he might as well be Harry’s football loving bloke.

“You met Louis, last week,” Liam says, sinking down to the floor and hugging his knees to his chest. His voice is weak, and he can’t look at Harry; doesn’t want to see if there’s relief or excitement in his eyes. If he’s happy that he’s bumped into his soulmate. “And now you’re not dreaming.”

“Could be a coincidence,” Harry says, and Liam can hear him get up, sock-clad footsteps coming his way. “Might not mean a thing, babe.”

Liam sighs, wishing it was that simple. “You’ve not dreamt anything since you met him.”

“I don’t always dream,” Harry says, trying to calm Liam as he sits down next to him. With his long legs stretched out on the floor. “You know that, Liam.”

“How do you feel?” Liam asks, glancing over at Harry, finding him looking wrecked. Like he knows that Liam’s given up.

That Liam’s empty inside now, and that their relationship is a lost cause.

“Except that you’re sad,” Harry murmurs, stroking his cheek gently with the backside of his hand. Liam’s glad there are no tears to wipe away, not yet. “I feel fine.”

“Do you feel complete?” Liam asks, sure that’s a thing they talk about in the films his sisters love so much. “Like, do you feel warm and stuff.”

Harry frowns, and tilts his head, and Liam’s glad that he can’t say _yes_ at once.That it’s not that easy. “Maybe,” he settles on, not looking too happy about it. “But I always do around you.”

“I think you should give Louis a chance,” Liam whispers, his voice catching on Louis’ name. “He’s great; you’ll love him.”

Liam knows it’ll be inevitable that he’s going to be the one left out in the end. Harry might say that he doesn’t want to leave him, not now, but in a few months, he’ll long to see Louis again.

One day Liam won’t be enough. And Liam can understand being left for Louis more than anything.

Louis deserves to be happy too, that’s the whole reason he broke up with Louis.

It’ll be worse the longer he waits, when he every day would be daydreaming about Louis and Harry, finally getting their happily ever after.

He might be wrong, of course, Harry could have bonded with someone else – but Liam can feel it in his tummy that he’s right. Harry should be able to do that, too.

He should be able to feel it more than Liam, who’s just an outsider now.

Liam hates, hates, _hates_ this so much. He hates everything he’s ever heard about soulmates, and how almost the whole world wishes for a bond.

Harry’s probably too bloody nice to admit it.

“What about you, though?” Harry asks, trying to take his hand, but Liam slips them between his thighs and closes them tight, so Harry can’t reach.

“We already knew this was going to end,” Liam mutters, blinking rapidly when his eyes start getting wet.

He’s not going to break down until he’s out of the flat; when he’s out of Harry’s sight, and he won’t feel bad for Liam’s sake. Harry should be happy for his own sake, without having to take care of a blubbering Liam.

“We didn’t,” Harry says, stubbornly. “If I get what you’re saying, and you’re talking nonsense, babe, then you want me to date your ex.’”

“He’s great,” Liam says sadly and tries not imagine Louis and Harry together, kissing and laughing. It would be a pretty sight, for sure, but Liam feels choked up thinking about it.

Harry sighs, and looks exhausted suddenly. Liam can barely look at him. “I know you think so,” he mutters, and Liam thinks it’s the most bitter he’s ever heard Harry, about anything.

Liam can feel the tension in his body; shoulders pulled up high. He tries to let them down, but he just wants to curl into a ball and cry, and he can’t get his body to relax.

“You’ll think so too,” Liam says with a twist to his lips that’s supposed to be a smile. “And whether or not it’s really Louis, it’s someone.”

Liam might prefer if it’s Louis, out of all boys in London. If it’s Louis, then it’s someone who’ll be good enough for Harry. Maybe it’s not a completely bad thing, though it feels like it’s right then.

“I don’t think this is fair to you,” Harry mumbles, eyes shining, and Liam can’t stand to watch him cry.

He’s stiff when he stands up, eyes trained on the floor. It’s so quiet in the room now, and Liam’s breathing sounds too loud. His heart beats so hard it feels like his chest might implode.

“I love you,” Liam says, and it feels like it’s wrong to say those three words the first time when they’re breaking up. But he needs to say them; he needs Harry to know.

“I love you too,” Harry mumbles, fisting his hands in his lap

Liam’s about to crumple to the ground, hearing Harry say that, and he’s got to rest his hand on the counter until his head stops spinning. He knew it, deep down, but he still wasn’t ready for it.

He wonders if Louis will love Harry like he does. He probably will love in more, in the end.

The last thing he does is to write down Louis’ number on the slate on the wall in the kitchen, where Harry usually dots down lists over what to buy home. He knows the number by memory though he’s not used in once in months.

He’s sure Harry will get better use of it, though it might take some convincing to get Louis to agree with him. Or not, maybe he’s thinking the same thing, only he’s afraid he’ll hurt Liam by telling Harry about it.

His fingers are shaking so badly when he’s trying to tie his sneakers that he ends up leaving with the laces united.

There are people on the tube, but no one bothers him, as he avoids looking at anyone. His cheeks are wet with tears, and he’s sniffling, but he’s keeping it together the best he can. He knows it was for the best.

It’s the best for the two people he loves, if not for him.

It’s not until he’s on his way back home – his near empty home – that he realises he’s left so many things at Harry’s flat. But he can’t go back now, can’t bear to see Harry once again, and not beg Harry to take him back.

He’ll have to buy a new toothbrush and a new charger to his phone. He can live without his joggers, and the other clothes he’s got in Harry’s drawer.

He’ll send Harry his key to the flat, Liam can’t keep it. One thing he’ll keep, though, and it’s the oversized beige jumper than Liam wore home one night when he was cold.

He’ll wear it when he misses Harry the most and he’ll avoid washing it, so it smells longer of Harry’s cologne.

His flat his cold and dark when he gets the lock open. Finally alone, he allows himself to break down, his sobs stocking in his throat. He needs this, needs a good cry and a night's sleep.

When he crawls into his bed, still wearing his clothes, he regrets not having Harry over more often. His pillow smells wrong, and he misses having someone’s hands on him when he falls asleep.

It’s not like he can sleep anyway, staring up at the ceiling in the dark as he grows more and more tired.

His bond is not working as it should. He’s already figured out that it’s broken in some way, and maybe should that bother him, but what does that matter. He would rather not meet anyone new anyway.

He can be alone. It’ll be fine. He just needs some time to get used to it.

– – –

The first few days are awful. Liam walks around like he’s in a fog, his head preoccupied at work. He causes more mistakes, more spilled drinks, and unhappy customers than he did his firsts weeks.

His colleagues are lovely about it; they know that he’s single again, though he doesn’t want to talk about it. Surely he’d cry in case he tries. He cried when he told his mum, and it only got worse by the fact that she cried, too.

The music he writes is different; it’s less happy, lyrics filled with longing and lost love. He tries not to regret anything he’s done. He had a good run, with both Harry and Louis.

He doesn’t want to change a thing that’s happened, except how it all ended.

The thing is, he’s got no idea what’s happened with Louis and Harry. He’s not been in contact with either of them, if he doesn’t count the pleading texts he first got from Harry.

He’s not answered them, and he feels bad about it. He’s afraid he’ll cave and walk straight back into Harry’s arms, hug him long and hard until it feels like he can breathe again. But Harry needs to be away from him to able to let go, and he should go and talk to Louis. That should help him move on.

That should help him forget about Liam, which is what he needs to do.

Maybe it’s weird, but he wants to _help_ them. It must be because he still loves them both, maybe more than he loves himself at the moment.

“You’re fucking unreal,” Zayn says with a small headshake, as Liam tells him that he wants the best for the both of them. He leans against the counter as Liam wipes it off, rubbing away every stain of coffee he’s spilled that day.

In this case, the best for Harry and Louis seems to be to be together. If Liam’s not watched too many romantic comedies, and his fantasy has played a mean prank on him.

“Maybe I should just stop thinking about it,” Liam sighs. It can’t be good for him to spend all his time focusing on his exes’ love lives.

“You should come out with us tonight,” Zayn says and nods even before Liam says no. He was going to protest – that he’s tired, that he just wants to go home and go to sleep. Though he won’t sleep; he’s used to a warm body in bed now, and it’s too quiet without someone breathing next to him.

“I don’t think I’m good company right now,” Liam says, not wanting to be the one to destroy a great evening out by being sad.

Zayn’s asked once before, and Liam said _no thank you_ then; he had plans with Harry to see an exhibition, some sort of sculptures that Liam thought looked like people trying to bend their bodies into the weirdest sex position ever.

Now he’s got no good reason to stay at home. A drink or two might also be a good way to stop thinking, so he nods and pulls at the strings on his apron.

“Good lad,” Zayn says, patting Liam on the back.

They lock up when they leave, and while Liam might not be dressed up, he’s not going out to meet anyone. It’s fine if his hair is a bit unruly, and his t-shirt is a plain black one that’s seen better days.

– – –

They’re starting slow tonight, or so Zayn tells him. First they’re going to go to a pub, and then move on to the club. There they’ll meet ut with a few of Zayn’s friends, but right now it’s just the two of them.

Liam thinks they’re there out already because Zayn doesn’t want him to be alone.

Liam likes the place they walk into; it’s cosy and warm, and there is a singer in a corner, clinking away on his guitar.

Just like the rest of the bar; he’s very Irish. He’s big, with huge arms and a lovely face that adds to his charm. Liam couldn’t care less right then.

Somehow, Liam loses sight of Zayn at the small, homey pub. Liam knows he’s there somewhere; he was just talking to a gorgeous blonde with ridiculously long legs not long ago.

Zayn was obviously smitten, and when he tried to be smooth, he wasn’t. Liam clapped his back and left the two of them alone to go and order a drink at the bar.

He sighs when he sits down on the free barstool by the counter and leans forward. The blonde bartender is chatting away with a customer a few customers away from him, and Liam gives him a small wave, letting him know that he wants to order.

He feels too sober to be there. Everything he sees reminds him of either Harry and Louis. Even beer makes him sigh like a teenager with a crush. _Louis_ likes beer.

He’s frowning when the bartender walks over to him, and Liam squirts at the scribbles on his name tag. It looks like it starts with an _N_ , but then Liam’s not sure about the rest.

“It’s Niall,” the bartender says, pointing at the name tag with a wry smile. “Should probably do a new one, save me some time.”

“Might save you from being called Neil,” Liam says, pleased when Niall laughs, though he shakes his head. “In case you need to, you can call me Liam.”

Liam thinks that it’s pretty unlikely Niall will need his name, but it feels wrong to know Niall’s when he hasn’t given his own.

Something about Niall makes him want to be his friend. There’s something warm about him.

Niall reaches out to shake Liam’s hand, a move that’s both friendly and formal. It’s not something he’s used to from other pubs – not that Liam’s been to that many, but he’s sure most bartenders don’t care about the names of their guests.

“Welcome to ‘Niall times two’,” he says with a laugh.

“That’s an amazing name,” Liam says, not sure how he missed that sign outside. It’s pretty special, and it makes him think of Harry. He would’ve loved it.

“Funny story,” Niall says and smiles softly, looking smitten. “My soulmate is also named Niall, out of all names in Ireland.”

“That must be confusing,” Liam giggles, ignoring the painful tug in in his chest at the mere mention of soulmates.

Niall shrugs and looks towards the stage. His smile softens, and Liam realises that the singer is Niall’s _Niall_.

“We don’t call him that, easier for everyone,” Niall explains, and Liam nods.

He really needs that drink. “Can I get a glass of wine, red maybe?” He can’t handle the taste of beer right now; sure he’s going to cry in if he drinks it.

Niall nods and plucks down a flask of red wine from the shelf. He holds it out to show Liam. Liam nods; he’s got no idea what’s good wine – if they even have that at a place like this – no matter how much Harry told him about different grapes. Maybe he should stay away from the wine, too, when he thinks about it.

But Niall’s already pouring a glass, while he tells Liam about how he met his Niall back in Ireland, how he’s his brother’s best friend. It all seems to simple and uncomplicated, and Liam wonders why his life isn’t like that.

It’s not that he doesn’t begrudge Niall it, but it seems kind of unfair to him.

“There you go,” Niall says and pushes a glass of red wine towards Liam.

Liam takes a sip and tries not to scrunch his face up at the first taste. It gets better, he knows that, but the first taste is sour and weird. He still swallows it down and gives Niall a thumb up. It’s like every other wine he’s had before.

Niall comes back to talk to him when he’s not too busy. Might be that he thinks Liam looks alone and sad, but Liam appreciates the company.

One drink in, Liam’s not feeling any better. If anything, he feels even sadder. He stares at his empty glass and sighs heavily.

“Not a fan of the wine, mate?” Niall asks, and Liam jumps in surprise. He didn’t think Niall was that close, or paying attention to him.

“It’s okay,” Liam says, not sure how to explain that wine makes him feel all these things. Not just because of the alcohol, but because it reminds him of an ex.

Liam doesn’t want to be the customer that spills all his secrets to the bartender. Niall’s nice and all, but he doesn’t want to listen to Liam complain about his problems.

“So, another glass then?” Niall asks, and Liam nods and holds his glass out.

When he’s still on his second glass of wine, Zayn comes up next to him, the pretty blonde holding his hand and smiling at him. Zayn looks happy but sheepish, and Liam knows the feeling of meeting someone that feels right – though in his case it wasn’t right at all – so he’s happy for Zayn.

“You’re alright, Liam?” Zayn asks, and Liam nods; he’s not cried once, so he’s done okay. Mostly because Niall’s there to distract him, but anyway.

“Niall’s great,” Liam says with a grin and raises his wine to his lips.

“He is,” Zayn agrees. “Best pub owner in London.”

Liam wonders if this is what Niall does. If he makes everyone feel comfortable and at home in his pub, if he makes friends with his customers.

Anyone else, he would’ve thought it was just for business. But Niall seems like he does it just because that’s the way he is.

After a while, Liam pats Zayn’s cheek and whispers that he should spend time with his girl instead of him. He’s alright. When the girl giggles, he realises he’s not really whispering.

“Just call me if you need me,” Zayn says, and pulls his girl after himself towards one of the darker corners in the pub. Liam won’t go nowhere near there, just to be sure not to see anything he can’t unsee.

Soon, his body is warm, and his fingers feel numb when he reaches for his glass. He’s close to spilling the lovely wine. He drinks the rest, too.

“Think you’ll like this strawberry cider,” Niall tells him when he holds out a glass with something pink.

Liam wonders if he’s trying to make sure that Liam’s not getting fall down drunk, or makes a fool out of himself.

“My ex-used to smell like strawberries,” Liam mumbles and blinks when his eyes feel a bit wet. It’s not the time to cry. “He’s a baker.”

“Seems like an ace thing to do,” Niall says lightly. “Date a baker, for the wonderful things they can do with their hands.”

Liam tries not to think too hard about the things that Harry could to with his hands. It’s not the time or place for that now. Not when Niall’s smirking at him, knowing very well how his words could be interpreted.

“It’d be better if he weren't soulmate with someone else,” Liam mutters and puts down his drink with a too loud bang. His hands are shaking, and he curls them together to make it stop.

“That’s shit,” Niall says, looking unsure of what to say. Like he wants to comfort Liam, but he’s not sure how to do it, or what to even say. Liam understands, and he tries to stop himself from continuing talking about it.

“Even worse that it’s my other ex he’s supposed to be with,” Liam blurts out, and closes his eyes to avoid having to see that way Niall looks at him. Now Niall knows what a mess he is.

Niall shuffles around, Liam can hear him move, and then he there’s the sound of a new drink being put down in front of him. Liam blinks his eyes open to two shots, and Niall makes a motion for him to take one.

When Liam does, he lifts the other to his own lips and throws it back. Liam swallows his own down, his throat burning. He makes a hacking noise and feels the warmth spread in his stomach.

“Thought you might need that,” Niall says gently, and Liam thinks he might be right.

Niall listens as he tells him about how he met Louis, then broke up with him, and then met Harry. He listens and nods, and gives him water when Liam asks for another drink.

“You know,” Niall says slowly, as he waves as yet another customer leaves the pub.

The other Niall is behind the bar now too, keeping the other guests happy as Niall talks to him. Liam’s not sure how long he’s been there, but he’s not ready to go home yet.

“Have you thought about the possibility that you’re wrong.”

Liam hums and tilts his head. He tries to think about the last few weeks It’s all very confusing, especially now that he’s drunk. In the end, he nods and tells Niall, “No, I’m pretty sure I’m not wrong.”

“I just meant that you might be their soulmate too,” Niall says, and Liam’s too drunk and confused to make sense of the words. _How could that even work?_

 _Is Niall drunk, too?_ Except for that one shot, he’s not been drinking, though, so Liam counts that option out.

“That’s not possible,” Liam denies firmly. He’s never heard such a thing before; there’s one soulmate, that’s the whole deal.

One soulmate for one specific person.

Niall snorts, and says, “Everything is possible, Liam. I might be wrong; I don’t know these lads you’re talking about. But it sounds like you miss them a lot, and like they might miss you, too.”

Liam thinks that’s wrong. He likes Niall, and he’s not one to point out people's mistakes, but Liam thinks he must this time.

“Nobody has _two_ soul mates,” he insists. It’s ridiculous how much he wants Niall to be right, how much hope he gets, just hearing the words out loud.

He still doesn’t believe it. It’s too good to be true.

“Bressie lived two minutes from me,” Niall says, and when Liam mouths the name, confused, he adds, “That would be my soulmate. Can’t call him my own name, can I?”

Liam’s happy for Niall, but he’s not that lucky. “I know my soulmate’s not back home.” His dreams, the one he had before they just _stopped_ , would’ve been different in that case.

Without his dreams, and his boys, he feels alone. He doesn’t even dream his own dreams anymore; he never sleeps that well now.

Niall reaches out, squeezing his shoulder. “Just meant that we never know where we find our soulmates, just that we know when we do. And it sounds to me like you’ve already met yours. _Yours_.”

Liam frown, and puts his head in his hands. His head is spinning a bit, and he won’t be able to walk in a straight like when he stands up. He wonders if it’s the drinks that cause him to think that Niall’s words almost make sense.

“There’s just something wrong with my bond,” Liam sighs. He’s so close to saying ‘ _there’s something wrong with me’_ , but he bites the words back.

“Maybe you should see a doctor then,” Niall suggests, but Liam thinks that there’s no remedy to heartbreak. Or to broken soulbonds.

Liam shakes his head, still in his hands. He smiles at Niall when he lifts his head; he’s nice, even though he’s wrong.

“Just need to set them up, or something,” Liam mumbles, mostly to himself. But Niall’s eyebrows go up, and he gives Liam an incredulous look. Like he can’t believe that Liam’s real.

“You _need_ to drink more water, mate,” he says, instead of pointing out to Liam what a bad idea that is.

He probably thinks that Liam will forget it when he’s sober again. He probably won’t.

“You should come back,” Niall says, sounding like he means it. Like Liam’s not just a customer.

Liam thinks he might just come back. Friends are just what he needs right now; they’re simple and uncomplicated – and in Zayn’s case, he’s still hiding with his girl somewhere in the pub. There’s a text from him in Liam’s phone, telling Liam to call him in case he needs it.

Liam plans not to do that; he’ll take a cab home, and then sleep until he needs to go to work again.

Back home, and in bed, he tries not to think about what Niall said. He knows it’ll only hurt more. He’s still warm and drunk, and he’s got too many things in his head to make sense of what’s right and what’s wrong.

He can’t stop himself from going over what’s happened, how he’s felt, since the first time he met Louis. And then Harry.

It’s hard to ignore how he feels. He still so in love with them both that it hurts, and while he tried to stop loving Louis while he was with Harry, he never stopped. They’re both so different, but he loves them exactly the same.

He feels like in the movies, though his life right now is like one of the tragic ones. His chest feels warm and soft like, and just thinking about kissing either of them, makes him want more.

It feels like he’s going to puke when he turns to his side and hugs his pillow close to his chest. He’s not sure if it’s the alcohol causing him to feel like that, or if it’s thinking over his decision to leave Louis, and then Harry.

He’s walked out of both of that relationship, with what he then thought were good reasons.

Might be that he’s been a bit of an idiot. Or it is that he’s one right now. He should go to sleep, but his brain is too loud and insistent.

Maybe he’s been wrong all along – or since the first bit of doubt popped up in his head – and Niall’s right.

Liam’s not one to give up, though. He’s not a coward, and while he’s tried to be selfless, maybe he’s been selfish. He’s given himself an out of two relationships, afraid to be hurt. There was the want of Louis and Harry having it all, but they wanted him.

They both did.

It seems easiest to start with Harry. He’s the one that Liam was with last, and he might be the one that’s least mad with him.

Though, he’s got no idea about that. Maybe Harry _hates_ him now.

It’s not easier to go to sleep after that. Somehow he slips into a dreamless sleep when it’s nearly morning. It’s just a few hours until he needs to be up again.

– – –

The next day, hungover but mostly sober, he knows he needs to go through with it.

It makes as little sense when he’s more awake, and a little less drunk. But he’ll regret it if he doesn’t at least _try_.

He needs to talk to someone. Someone that knows him, and who can tell him if he’s doing the right thing. Or if he’s just going to hurt himself, and Louis and Harry, again.

He calls Jade and gets Perrie on speaker phone too. They seem mostly confused by his ramblings about soulmates, and boys in plural.

Still, when Jade’s made sense of it, she tells him, “Just go for it, Liam. Can’t hurt to try.”

She’s right in a way; there might be a risk of Louis throwing a tea mug at his head, intentionally not hitting him straight on. But getting a no will hurt emotionally, and that’s more lasting.

“Might not want me back,” Liam mutters and smells the t-shirt from the night before. He wrinkles his nose and drops it to be floor again. Can’t wear that one to work, sadly, so he goes to get a new one with Jade still on the phone.

“Then they’re both idiots,” Perries says loudly, doing something that makes Jade giggle.

Liam wants what they have, so he figures he needs to go through with it.

“Not everyone who doesn't want to date me is an idiot,” Liam laughs.

Jade huffs, and if she was there, Liam knows she’d hug him. And then tickle him until he cried. Perrie would help, of course.

He feels better when he hangs up. Well, except for a headache, the doubt that makes him feel nauseous – of if that’s the hangover, he’s not sure – and the worry about getting a _no_ thrown in his face.

It’s not like he doesn’t deserve it. He understands if they say no.

– – –

He’s still got a headache, and he rather not is at work. It’s a bit too bright, a bit too loud. He’s the one who put himself in this position, so he puts on his apron in the breakroom, and takes a deep breath.

Only the fact that he needs to be out there working is what makes him stop thinking about what he’s going to say. He wants to write a long, rambling text, with all the information that Harry might need – no matter if it’s just Liam’s confusion summed up in many words.

He pushes in the words, _‘Could we talk. Please’_ , and then he presses send. When he’s done, he turns off the sound and puts it in his back pocket. Now he just needs to wait for Harry.

When it buzzes halfway through his shift, while there’s a long line of customers, it takes everything not to take it up to see what it says.

He knows it’s going to be Harry who’s answered, he can feel it. He’s just not sure what Harry’s answer is going to be.

It’s hard to keep smiling, the rest of his shift. He’s distracted and afraid that the answer in his phone isn’t what he wants it to be.

Might be that Harry just wants Liam to leave him alone.

Liam’s not sure he really deserves a second chance. Hopefully, Harry doesn’t blame him as much as he blames himself. He’s acted the way he thought was the best, for them all. But now just feels bad about how he pushed them away.

When it’s, _finally_ , time for his own coffee break, Liam’s fingers slip on his mobile in his rush to get it up.

Harry’s answer is short, and while it’s what Liam wanted, it doesn’t feel quite right. It just says _‘yes’_. Nothing more.

 _‘Can I visit you tonight?_ ’ Liam types out, walking restlessly around the small break room. He’s got so much to say to Harry, and it’s better if they meet someplace familiar.

Might help that they have many happy memories in Harry’s kitchen. There’s that one not so good memory of them breaking up, but that’s what Liam wants to undo. Only adding something more to their relationship.

Liam wonders if it’s really going to work, if he puts too much thought into one bartender’s idea. A person he’s just met once.

Niall’s nice, but he’s never even met Harry or Louis. So it’s weird how much Liam thinks he’s right. There’s this feeling in his gut, something that he can’t ignore.

He just hopes that he’s not the only one that’s feeling it.

– – –

There’s only weirdness in the air when he steps into the flat, and he’s not used to that. He’s used to warming hugs and teasing touches. He’s used to Harry mumbling words in his ear, and the smell of his skin as he presses his nose to his Harry’s neck.

Now Harry’s got his hands in his front pockets, and he’s not said anything since he let Liam in.

Harry looks just as good as Liam remembers, though his shoulders are slumped, and the smile on his lips doesn’t look real. Liam’s not sure why he expected Harry to look any different.

It’s not been _that_ long since he last was in the flat, and it’s not been that long since Liam last saw Harry.

“Come on then,” Harry says and turns to walk towards the kitchen. The place smells of a fresh bake, and any other day, Liam knows he would’ve already been offered a muffin or maybe scones already.

Now, he sinks down on one of the high, modern chairs by the table. He’s not there to be stuffed full of sugary love; he’s there to beg for forgiveness and then maybe a second chance.

“So,” Liam says, curling his hands together to stop himself from thrumming them against the table.

Harry hums and goes to the counter to clean away the clutter from his bake. He’s got his back turned to Liam, and Liam feels discouraged. Instead of blurting it all out there, everything he’s thought about and planned to say, he just sits there.

Silent.

“Thought you wanted to talk,” Harry says, his voice stiff.

“Yeah,” Liam says slowly. Hopefully, Harry won’t chuck him out for saying this. “You know, the whole thing with Louis.”

At that, Harry drops the bowl in the sink and turns around. He nods once. It’s not as if Liam expected him to have forgotten, he just needed to start with something.

“Well,” he says, stalling once more.

“Sure it’s not as bad as the last time,” Harry huffs, and Liam feels like laughing – not because it’s funny, just because it’s so weird. It’s not bad, per say, but it’s still complicated.

“I don’t think it’s a bad thing,” Liam decides to settle on. “Have you talked to Louis?”

It could be good to know if they’ve worked it out, and are happy on their own. If they even want to add Liam to the equation, in that case.

Harry shakes his head. “Still think you’re wrong about that one.”

“Louis is great, though,” Liam says as if he’s still trying to push Harry into Louis’ arms. He is, in a way. Only not quite the way Harry thinks he is.

“I know _you_ think so,” Harry says, and Liam feels bad for how he still feels for Louis when he hears how sad his tone is. Not jealous, just unhappy. But it doesn’t help any of them if he says he’s sorry; it’s not like he can deny it, just make it all go away.

He’s dreamt of them both since he was twelve.

“Not the point,” Liam says, shrugging. “I know that I’ve been an idiot, though.”

“So you think,” Harry starts, and while he doesn’t say it, Liam can hear the ‘ _you think we’re soulmates after all then?’_

Liam nods, and he’s watching Harry so carefully that he can see his eyes widen. How he wobbles and near falls over. In any other situation, Liam would giggle at him, tease him for being unable to stay upright.

“Still think you’re, like, meant to be with Louis,” Liam rushes to say, and Harry just blinks at that, with a pretty, confused pout on his lips.

Liam feels like kissing it away until he’s smiling again.

“Have you hit your _head_?” Harry wonders and Liam snorts out a short laugh. More like his head is hurting because he’s still hungover.

“I met this bartender,” Liam explains. “And he had this silly idea, and while I was drunk when he told me, it still makes sense.”

“You’re rambling, Liam,” Harry says, and he sounds almost fond.

“He said that the way I feel about you, must be because you’re both my soulmates,” Liam says, his heart thumping away in his chest. It feels a bit like he’s going to have a heart attack, like his chest is going to collapse because of how fast it beats.

It’s out there now, and it still sounds as weird.

Harry laughs, shaking his head. Then he sobers up, and gently says, “That’s not a thing.” He sounds almost sad about it, like he doesn’t want to disappoint Liam.

“It feels like it,” Liam mutters, hopping down on the floor and stomping over to Harry. He’s not mad; he just needs to get him to understand, needs to be confident about it himself. “I could feel it with him, and then I could feel it with you. I just couldn’t make sense of it until someone told me.”

Harry doesn’t move away when Liam goes to stand next to him, close enough that he can hook his ring finger through the loop of Harry’s jeans. He’s holding on as if Harry was about to run away. When it’s really been the other way around.

This time, Liam’s going to stick around. If Harry lets him.

Harry sighs, and bumps his hip against Liam’s. “Think you’re still drunk, babe.” Liam shines up at the nickname, can feel how his eyes scrunch up as a grin spreads on his lips. “But you might be a drunk that’s right, though it sounds unlikely, so I think I won’t say no. Not yet.”

“We can talk about it,” Liam says, and hopes that talking might involve some handholding too. He’s really missed Harry’s hands, and the small touches to his back when he’s keeping Harry’s company in the kitchen.

It’s not even about sex; he just wants Harry’s hand on him, treating his like he was the best kind of pastry.

“He won’t like it, I guess,” Harry says, and Liam knows he shouldn’t take that as Harry’s in. He should be happy with the maybe he’s gotten. “Louis, I mean.”

“Not sure he wants to talk to me at all,” Liam says, his voice small. He might not be so understanding; he might not even love Liam anymore. Not even if they are soulmates, he could _want_ to hate Liam.

Harry snorts and bumps his hip against Liam again, this time leaning even more into him. He’s a bit heavy, but he’s warm and nice next to to Liam, and he’s happy to keep Harry from falling over.

“Pretty sure that’s not quite true,” Harry murmurs, arching one eyebrow in a way that reminds Liam an awful lot about just Louis. “Saw the way he looked at you, and while I didn't like it, I think you might like it.”

“Harry,” Liam sighs, wanting to make Harry understand that there’s nothing to jealous about. That he might not love Louis the way he does, but that he’s going to. It’s bound to happen if they just let it.

“I know, Liam,” Harry says, and takes his hand. “You just want what’s best for us.”

“It’s all I want,” Liam says, and while he’s said it before. Believed it before. He thinks this time might be different.

That night, he spends in Harry’s bed. They don’t really do more than cuddle and talk. They’re not dating – they’ve not even talked about it – but they’re _something_ again.

Liam’s not sure how he’s managed to get Harry to listen to him.

Liam can hardly understand it himself, and he’s been going over everything at least a hundred times in his head.

– – –

It takes a few days, but then Liam’s convinced Harry to at least spend a little time with Louis.

It’s all he can ask. If it’s the way he thinks, Harry won’t mind spending a little extra time with Louis after that.

A few texts later, and some vague explaining, he gets Louis to agree to meet up.

Liam’s hardly been able to eat all day, so nervous he is to see Louis again. The last time, it was just luck that brought them together – though Liam then didn’t think so, the happiness of seeing Louis again overshadowed of uncomfortableness – and now he’s had time to think about every possible little thing Louis might say.

Maybe he should’ve told Louis that Harry was going to be there, it would’ve been more honest. Louis could’ve prepared for it mentally. It’s just that he wasn’t sure if Louis was going to come if he did.

Now that he’s there, with Louis in front of him, and Harry next to him, he’s not sure it was the best idea to bring Harry. Louis is frowning at them, from the other side of the table at the coffee shop.

Harry’s been polite, offering his hand while giving him a long look. Liam could almost see him think, see him trying to feel if he feels anything specific around Louis.

“Well,” Louis mutters and crosses his arms over his chest. His cup of tea, he’s still not touched. “Didn’t think you’d bring your lovely boyfriend.” There’s sharp sarcasm in his voice, and Liam winces.

“He’s not exactly my boyfriend,” Liam says.

They’re not dating properly again. Liam wants to wait until Louis is there with them too; he doesn’t want it to be just him, and one of them.

Liam really hopes that it’ll turn out alright; he knows he’ll love Harry either way, but he will always miss Louis, if he’s not able to have him too.

Louis looks a little bit shocked, at that, and he seems almost sorry. It’s like the fight goes out of him, and he seems mostly confused.

Liam can understand that; he’s still confused himself, but with them all there, he can just think about how right it feels. He’s got both his boys there, and he wants to keep having it like that.

“We wanted to talk to you about something,” Harry says and takes a small sip of his tea. He gives Liam a glance, waits for him to nod, and then he adds, “About the whole soulmate thing.”

Louis blinks slowly, and wraps his hands around his mug, staring down at it. It’s soon going to go cold, and he’s barely touched it. “It’s not like your soulmate thing has anything to do with me.”

“It might,” Harry says, and Louis snorts and gives him a look, like he thinks Harry’s being an idiot.

“What the hell,” Louis says, near tipping the tea over as he flaps out with one hand.

“Think Liam should explain,” Harry says, and lets his hand drop to Liam’s thigh, the weight a warm comfort.

Liam takes a shaky breath. “I think you might call be my soulmate after all,” he rushes out, feeling as if he’s going to stop being brave enough to say it if he takes too long. “And Harry too.”

Louis laughs dryly, though he doesn’t seem amused at all. “What kind of mean prank is this?”

“Not a prank,” Harry says and pats Liam’s thigh. He might be shaking; it feels like he can’t sit still.

“Are you dreaming?” Liam asks, instead of trying to explain about Niall, and what he said. Hopefully, he can get Louis to understand if he thinks for himself. He’s less likely to listen to someone he’s never even met.

Louis shakes his head, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Mine stopped,” Liam says while telling himself that he shouldn’t take anything for granted, just because Louis hasn’t had any dreams in a while. That doesn’t mean he’s right, though it points towards it being possible.

“Mine too,” Harry breaks in with, smiling at Louis in a way that gives Liam hope.

Harry doesn’t seem to mind Louis looking rather cold; he’s open and friendly, and while Harry’s doing this for Liam, he can tell that Harry wants this to work out.

Louis twists the tea mug in his hands, looking at it very intently. His shoulders are stiffer again, and Liam wants him to stop looking like he wants to run. “That’s not a shocker, considering everything. You met Harry after all.”

“Right,” Liam agrees, wanting to reach out and take Louis’ hands, stop him from fiddling with the mug. He wants Louis’ attention on him, and on Harry. “And now you’ve met him.”

Louis looks up, flicking his eyes between them as if he’s trying to figure them both out. Liam’s not used to Louis looking like that at him – Louis has always been able to read him like a book.“Not sure what you want me to say.”

“It’s a bit,” Liam doesn’t want to say weird, so he settles for, “unusual.”

“Your not-boyfriend is wearing a yellow shirt with pink flowers on, and he’s forgotten to button it,” Louis says, waving at Harry’s bare chest. “I think everything here’s a bit unusual today.”

It’s not the most cutting thing Louis could’ve said, and while it makes Harry pout, it makes Liam smile. There’s the Louis he knows so well.

Liam’s mouth feels dry, and he clears his throat to be able to get out, “I want to date the both of you.”

Louis opens his mouth and then closes it. Stunned, he just sits there, as still as Liam’s ever seen him.

“I think you’re going a bit too fast with the storytelling, babe,” Harry mumbles into Liam’s ear.

Liam thinks he’s right; Louis looks even more confused now, his mouth hanging open and his eyes wide.

“I had this talk with a bartender, poured my heart out like a cliche,” Liam says, his cheeks pinking up.

Louis pokes him with his toes when he falls silent. “Still don’t get it.”

“Well,” Liam says, and gives Harry a look, urging him to go on.

“What Liam’s trying to say that is that my dreams stopped, after I met you,” Harry tells Louis. “That’s the reason he broke up with me.”

“True heartbreaker, you are,” Louis says, and while it stings a bit, it’s quite true. Liam broke both their hearts and his own.

“He thought we should date,” Harry explains, and Liam’s so grateful that he’s there. That he’s willing to go along with this, and that he can put words to all the things that are in his head.

“Liam,” Louis sighs, looking like he wants to hug Liam, and then pinch just because. “You’re horrible to yourself.” He huffs. “You’ve a hot boyfriend, and you dump him and tell him to be with your ex.”

“You think I’m hot,” Harry preens, sitting back more relaxed.

“Not the point,” Louis says, waving away his slip up. “I just think the whole thing is mad.”

“It might be,” Liam says with a little giggle. Louis looks like he just wants to put the words back in his mouth, but Liam’s not going to forget about it. “Still think it would be worth trying.”

“Cause a bartender told you,” Louis says slowly, raising his eyebrows. He still sounds doubtful.

“Niall’s a good lad,” Liam says, sure Louis would think so too if he met him.

“And a bloody romantic,” Louis huffs as if that was a bad thing.

Liam knows one thing, though, so he laughs and shakes his head. “So are you, Louis.”

He might hide it under all that sharpness and teasing, but he’s soft and sweet, someone Liam wants to bring home to his mum. She’s going to cry once more, hopefully, because she’s glad her son has two such nice boys in his life - they both clean up well.

“I think you’re way off,” Louis says, and flattens his hands against the table, tapping his fingers in a tune that Liam wants to remember, and then put lyrics too. It feels like a love song.

With too much pining, and a happy ending.

“Thought so too,” Harry says, and Liam shrugs, knowing well that Harry didn’t need nowhere near as much convincing as he’d counted on.

Liam had a plan, with twelve steps and a timeline mapped out of their lives. It was Niall’s idea, and he even offered his skills to make it anything other than a doodle on a napkin. Might not make as much sense now as when he was falling drunk. At least, he’s surer than ever that Niall was right, now that he’s there with both Harry and Louis.

There may be a wine stain on the napkin, now that he thinks about it. But he has in his wallet, along with the extra tip that he should’ve given Niall for being the best.

“But he’s here,” Liam says and pokes his finger at the dimple in Harry’s cheek. He’s smiling, looking more at ease than Liam could’ve counted on.

“Couldn’t hurt,” Harry says, though it’s not quite true. There’s always a risk of getting hurt when it comes to feelings, to love, and Liam’s started to see that.

He’s not so afraid of things going wrong. One person will never know what happens, even with dreams that guide you to your right person. _Persons_ for Liam.

“I’m not suggesting marriage,” Liam says, glancing down at the heavy rings on Harry’s fingers. It’s not even legal to marry more than one person, but he’s not going to lie to himself about how much he still wants to make it official some day.

Even with all the stigma of doing things differently, he’s proud to say that he loves them both. It’s hard enough for some to have the same-sex soulmate, and won’t always be easy. But he won’t be alone, and those bigots can go fuck themselves anyway.

“Just a date or two,” Harry suggests, more or less asking Louis out for him.

It’s everything Liam could’ve asked for, how strange that may sound.

“I’m not that into the idea of sharing,” Louis says, and Liam knows that’s a lie, when it comes to most things. Louis is very generous to sharing his things, and his love, but Liam might be a different thing entirely.

“It’s be all of us,” Liam says, and grips Harry’s hand. At some point, he’s started to sweat, nervous even though he tries to keep it inside.

Louis has still not said yes, and though he’s not stormed out, Liam wants him to agree to try.

Harry hums, and nods. Louis looks between them, teeth pulling at his bottom lip. He looks unsure, but he’s still there at least.

“It won’t work if it’s not all of us,” Harry says, and Liam nods fiercely. That’s so true; it can’t all be about him, it shouldn’t be.

In that case, it’s not right. They should love each other as much as they do him if they just let it happen.

Louis bites his lip, a small frown on his lips as he thinks.

“One date,” Liam insists. One date, it’s all it should take to get them both on track.

“Fine,” Louis says slowly, and Liam wants to hug him, but there’s a table between them.

It gets weird again when they leave, all of them going in different directions. Now they’re all aware of the situation, and he can feel Louis and Harry watching each other, and even though Liam hugs first Louis, and then Harry, they don’t touch each other.

Not even a handshake.

Liam flicks his finger against Louis’ neck. “It was nice to see you again.” He feels that familiar fondness in his chest, and he reaches out so take Harry’s hand. He pulls him closer, until they’re both close enough that he could pull them into a group hug.

He won’t push them into that. It should be on their terms; he knows that’s for the best. He can’t rush them into anything, even though he wants to fast forward until they kiss in front of him.

He likes that idea a lot more than he ever thought; he never imagined wanting to see his boyfriend snog someone else, but now it just feels exciting, and maybe it’s a bit of a turn-on.

“You too,” Louis whispers, smiling softer than he’s done the whole night.

Afterwards, when Liam’s on his way home, he takes out the napkin from his wallet. He didn’t need to show it, but he still wants to keep it. He was right, it’s near unreadable, and he’s missed too many details – like all the dreams that brought them together – but it feels like a good reminder of what he could have.

Liam’s unable to stop smiling, the rest of the night. He’s got a date, with his two boys, and things might just work out.

He wants to tell everyone he’s ever met, but instead, he calls Jade. She screams at him for forgetting to call her the first minute he was alone, and then calls on Perrie so she can scream at him in excitement, too.

– – –

It seems fitting to start their dating history at the bar; it’s not crowded since it’s a work night, and it’s not loud enough that they won’t be able to talk. A beer or two might make it easier to relax, too.

In case things go south, Niall might be able to help make sense of it all. It’s not that Liam thinks that it’ll go badly, it’s just that he’s nervous.

This thing can either end in orgasms – eventual orgasm if it doesn’t happen tonight – or _disaster_. And Liam doesn’t want to bet on the last option.

That’s not him; he’s not a pessimist; he wants to believe in the best in people, and that they can work this out.

It’s a bit awkward, he can admit to that. He’s made himself look nice, smell nice, and wears his best clothes even though they’ve both seen him in his shabbiest joggers. And nude.

Niall’s behind the bar, and he grins at Liam when he walks over, with Harry and Louis just behind him.

For some reason, he ends up in the middle, with Harry on one side and Louis on the other. They’re both so close that he’ll bump into them if he moves only a little, and they both touches him, unlike the day before when Louis hardly looked at him,

Every time Harry touches the back of his neck, or the backside or him hand, Louis does something too. Takes his hand, kisses his cheek, or pinches his side.

Liam can’t help but love the attention, though he doesn’t know if they’re both aware of what they’re doing.

“Oh,” Niall says when he looks between them. It looks like he’s got it figured out, clever as he is.

“This is Louis and Harry,” Liam introduces them, pointing his thumb first at Louis and then Harry. Niall probably knows who’s who either way, considering how much Liam talked about them, in great detail.

It’s a bit embarrassing to come back here, now that he thinks about it.

“I know,” Niall says with a little laugh. “I play footie with Louis, and your Harry is an old friend, too.”

“I’m not old,” Harry drawls, fake pouting. “You’re the one that’s old and married. Well, as good as married.”

“I wouldn’t mind putting a ring on Bressie’s finger,” Niall says, quite dreamily.

“What?” Liam says, blushing when he thinks about how many details he told Niall about Harry and Louis, and he knows them both.

Niall shrugs, and taps up a beer to Louis, getting a salute as thanks. Then he pulls down a bottle of red from the shelf and holds it up to Harry, who nods eagerly. “Harry’s cupcakes are bloody fantastic, course I know him.”

“Niall’s my best customer,” Harry says. “Weird that you never met him, considering how often he’s been at the shop.”

“Not _that_ often,” Niall says with an eye roll; Harry just laughs and takes the glass of wine Niall’s offering him.

“All of this is weird,” Louis says, though he doesn’t seem bothered about it as he wraps his arm around Liam’s waist.

“Think it’s amazing that he got you both here. No matter how he did it,” Niall says, waving at at customer that’s just come through the door, signalling that he’ll be over soon.

“Our Liam can be very convincing,” Louis says, wriggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“There were no blowjobs involved in the convincing,” Harry drawls, and Liam nudges his elbow to his side, gently not to hurt him.

“What?” Harry laughs. “There _weren’t_.”

“Not yet, at least,” Louis says, and Liam tries not to think about two hot mouths on his dick while in public. It’s hard not too when Harry keeps looking at his mouth, and Louis’ fingers brush against the skin above his waistline.

“No need to tell me when that happens,” Niall laughs, pushing a cider over to Liam and then walking over to the newest customer. It’s the same kind as Liam drank the last time he was there.

Liam startles a little when Harry’s fingers brush against his back, so close to Louis’ bare arm that he must be touching him, too. Louis keeps on talking, acting like nothing, but Liam can see him watching Harry.

Harry looks too innocent not to be doing anything.

 

Louis' cheeks are pink; Liam can see it even though it’s dimmed in there. He tries to look disinterested, but Liam can see that he’s putting on a brave face.

Liam knows Louis, and it’s clear to him that Louis is nervous. He hopes that it means that Louis cares about this, and not just comes to soften the blow for Liam when he says _‘nope, he can’t do it.’_

Then it’s just the three of them, and it’s surprisingly easy. Sometimes Liam forgets that they don’t know each other, and that they both know almost everything about Liam.

They all have the dreams, though. So in a way, they _do_ know each other. Maybe that’s why it’s so easy to slip into this teasing – flirty– dynamic.

There’s so much touching; Liam’s used to one pair of hands on him now. Even though it’s not like he’s grown up with people like that, he’s gotten used to fingers twisting his hair and tickling his side.

Now, he can’t keep up, and both Harry and Louis thinks it’s hilarious to tease him, the hands getting bolder the longer they’re there.

At that moment, it feels more like the night’s going to end in orgasms, instead of that disaster he thought up beforehand.

“Stop it,” Liam complains, fake pouting, his bottom lip tinted red with Harry’s wine. He’s a bit tipsy by now. Nowhere near as drunk as he was the last time he was there, but he’s got a pleasant buzz in his body. He’s relaxed, and he’s happy, and he can’t stop smiling even when he’s trying to keep a straight face.

Louis pats his bum, and Liam just now realised that he’s with two people without _boundaries_.

“You don’t want that,” Louis says confidently.

“Nah,” Harry agrees, pressing a kiss to Liam’s cheek.

Liam shrugs, knowing he’s caught. He’s never been the best at lying, and even less so when he’s drunk.

“You should kiss,” he blurts out, eyes widening when he realises what he’s said. It’s not like he’s not thought about it – it’s been all he’s able to think about, when Harry bites his lip and looks at Louis in a way that makes Liam feel all warm inside. He knows so well what that looks mean, what goes on inside Harry’s head.

It’s weird how he’s barely jealous at all. It helps that he can feel that they don’t want to leave him out of it, which would have broken him.

At first, they’re both quiet, watching Liam more than each other.

“I think I like how you think,” Harry says, after what feels like ages to Liam. It’s probably less than a minute, but Liam was so nervous that they wouldn’t want it he stopped breathing as he waited.

Then they bend forward, crowding him between them as they kiss, just in front of him. It’s not easy, them all being so close to the bar. Maybe Liam should move back, but he likes how close they are, how he feels a part of it.

Louis’ fingers on his hip dig in harder when Harry kisses back with more intent, and Liam swallows hard. It’s the best kind of porn he’s ever seen, and it’s just a kiss.

He’s got a feeling things could get out of hand quite easily, with the two of them in the same room. Liam doesn’t even mind, though the pub is a bit public for the things he wants to do with Harry and Louis.

At the other end of the bar disk, Liam can hear Niall holler at them, loud over the music playing. Liam laughs when Louis flips him off, pulling away from Harry’s mouth with a pleased little smile.

“Fuck,” Liam mumbles, his voice rough. It feels like he’s been hit with something hard, like he’s the one that’s been kissed.

“Only fair that you get a kiss too,” Harry murmurs, lips close to Liam’s ear. His breath is hot, and Liam shivers and nods.

It’s only fair. Harry’s lips are warm when he kisses Liam, at first sweet and soft, but then with more tongue than what’s probably proper in public. Liam couldn’t care less, sighing as he melts into it.

“My turn,” Louis murmurs, squeezing Liam’s hip to get his attention. Not that Liam ever forgot that he was there; his side warm where Louis is pressed up against him.

Louis murmurs something against his lips when he leans in, and Liam thinks it’s _‘missed you’_ , but it’s hard to think when Louis kisses his breath away.

Harry’s close to his back, his arm around Liam’s waist.

It’s hard to stop, but Liam can feel himself starting to get too excited for a bar, and he pulls away from Louis’ lips, smiling.

“Let’s order more drinks,” Liam decides, and waves for Niall to come over. His cheeks are pink, and he’s warm and happy, though he knows that Niall will tease him mercilessly for making out in his bar.

“Feels like you’re trying to get us drunk,” Louis jokes and empties the last lukewarm beer in his glass. He makes a face, disgusted.

“You do a fine job of that yourself,” Liam says with a laugh, and curls in on himself before Louis can twist his nipple.

Sometimes he lets Louis get away with it, just because he knows it makes Louis happy. Sometimes he wants Louis to fight a little harder for it. This time, he just wants Louis to play with him.

It’s been too long since the last time.

He’s missed Louis something horrible, and now that he’s back, he’s not sure how he could even get through the days without him.

Harry helped a lot, made it all so much better, up until Liam fucked that up, too.

Maybe this was the way it was supposed to play out, though. Liam’s just the right amount of drunk to believe in destiny. And if the bumps along the road led them to this, then maybe they were what made them come to this place, this day.

All roads to happiness isn’t straight, but if their ends in something great, it’s the most important thing.

It’s late when Niall shoos them out of there, with a wide smile like he’s happy that the night went well for Liam.

Outside in the cold, Liam’s head feels a bit clearer. And he knows one thing: he doesn't want the night to end quite yet.

“A bit weird with kissing at the end of a night like this, not sure who’s going to go for it first,” Louis says, hands pushed into his jeans jacket. Liam thinks he’s cold. He tends to be, and Liam wants to warm his hands up.

Liam lets out a giggle, getting a vision in his head of Harry offering Louis to put his hands down Harry’s tight jeans. Just to _warm_ his hands up.

The image is kind of hot, though. He’s already distracted, so he tries to push that thought away and focus on what Louis just said.

“Think you’re always going to be the one to go for it first,” Liam tells Louis. “You’re so brave.”

Louis snorts, looking amused. “You’re the one that made this happen, and I’d say that’s plenty brave.” He gets a fond look on his face. “Brave, and noble, and warm. Yeah, _warm_.”

Liam feels warm inside. He feels warm and happy, but he doesn’t think he’s all that brave. He was scared, of things going badly when they didn’t have to, scared enough not to try.

He’ll try to be better – to be brave, from now on out.

“Yeah, sounds like Liam,” Harry agrees, before Liam’s got a chance to protest and tell them everything he’s done wrong. Every little thing that means he’s not noble or brave, not like Louis means it.

“Our Liam,” Louis says, and it sounds final.

Liam’s chest feels warm and floaty, if that’s even a thing. He’s so happy to hear Louis say that, that his face almost hurts because he’s smiling so hard.

“Back to the goodnight kisses,” Liam insists, not wanting to ruin a good thing by asking Louis if he really means it. If he _really_ wants to do this thing.

There’s no need to rush that; they’ve time, even though Liam wants it all, as quickly as possible. It’s his heart, full of love for them both, and not his brain that’s decided that.

It’s better to let them figure it out by themselves now.

Louis laughs, but Harry tilts his head, quieter. He’s probably going over his options, and Liam knows he needs some time, sometimes, to put words to what’s on his mind. Sometimes he just lets it flow, and then Liam needs time to think, and to connect the dots in his stories.

Liam likes both things about Harry, but he likes a lot of things about Harry. How he’s sweet and gentle, but how he also likes to hold Liam down as he fucks him hard.

“The night doesn’t have to end quite yet,” Harry suggests, not even phrasing it like a question. There’s this edge to his voice, that smirk in his voice, and while Louis doesn’t know Harry yet, he seems to get what it means.

Because he quiets and blinks slowly as he looks at them. Even with all the touches all night, it looks like Louis never thought it’d end with a suggestion like that. With the three of them going home together.

Liam’s not shocked, not really, since Harry’s quite shameless like that. He just likes sex.

“I like the way you think,” Louis decides, after a long pause.

Harry’s obviously pleased with Louis’ answer. He takes a small step forward, smacks a kiss on Louis’ cheek, and whispers something in Louis’ ear that Liam can’t hear.

Louis lifts himself up on his tiptoes, pushing a bit closer as he listens. He nods quickly, and then he says, “Sounds good to me.”

“Where should we go?” Harry asks, staying close to Louis.

“Harry’s bed the biggest one,” Liam says without thinking, and his cheeks flush when he realises what he just implied quite heavily.

Though, it’s not like anyone, would have believed that Harry wanted them to go home and drink a cup of tea. Even though nobody’s more than hinted.

Louis lets out a loud laugh, so much less tense than when the night started, and pulls his hand out of his pocket to ruffle Liam’s hair. “You would know.”

“Hey,” Liam complains, trying to flatten his hair back into looking good. He’s spent a lot of time making it look good enough for this important date.

Though, if he gets his way, his hair will be the last thing on his mind. One tends to not care about bed head, when getting fucked silly.

Liam takes Louis’ hand, holding on more just because he wants to, than to keep him from wrecking his hair even more.

“Lead the way,” Louis says, his smile softer. He looks at Liam like he’s done, late night at home on the sofa after a slow night in, just the two of them. It’s familiar, and it makes Liam feel like everything is the way it’s supposed to be – it feels like Louis is trusting him to stay.

Which is a lot more than Liam feels like he deserves at his worst times.

Now, he just wants to enjoy being in love with two such lovely boys and having them like him back. The rest will come, the sureness of it lasting, the promises of forever, and the talks about what it means to be three people in love.

Harry takes his other hand when Liam holds it out, and starts walking them home. It’s luck they’re not too far from Harry’s place – which should’ve been what Liam thought about when deciding where they should go. He realises that now. It’s too late to take the tube home; they’ve since long stopped running.

The walk might be good, might stop Liam’s head from spinning. Though, he’s not sure if that’s because of alcohol, or that he’s with his two soulmates. Just being close to one can be quite a rush, extra endorphins or whatever it now said in Liam’s schoolbooks.

It’s easy to stop thinking too hard, which might be a first for him. While there are bubbles of nervousness in Liam’s stomach, popping up every other minute to remind him that he’s doing something new. Something that could’ve been _scary_ new. Something he couldn’t ever have considered to be an option for him.

The first thing Liam’s hit with when he enters Harry’s flat is how much he’s missed being there, no counting when he spent the night after his and Harry’s talk. Then he was too nervous to enjoy it. It’s a bit bittersweet coming back; so many memories causing him to stop in the middle of the hall, and Louis bumping into his back.

“Ouch,” Louis grouches, hugging Liam from behind.

“Sorry,” Liam mumbles, twisting his head so he can grin at Louis. It’s weird to have him there, in a place that’s so strongly connected to his time with Harry, but it’s also wonderful.

Harry’s got his jacket and boots off before Louis lets go of him, and he stands there watching them with a crooked smile.

“I get why you missed him,” Harry says, his voice quiet.

“I didn’t love you any less,” Liam says, hoping that he’s said so to Harry when he tried to convince him that this was a good idea. Harry should hear it, over and over. He was so good to Liam.

“I know that Liam,” Harry drawls, and walks over to hug Liam too. He’s too warm, coming from outside and still in his jacket, though it’s at least open. He doesn’t want them to stop touching him even for a second, to shrug out of it, when he’s waited so long for this.

Harry kisses him then, before he can say anything more. And Liam strains up against him to get more, not just shy butterfly kisses.

Louis is staying where he is, hands trapped between Harry and Liam. He’s still at first, but then his mouth finds that spot on Liam’s neck, that he knows makes Liam weak in his knees.

Liam’s not sure if he’ll be able to stay upright when Louis' teeth scrape over a wet love bite at the same time as Harry sucks at his bottom lip.

When Harry pulls away, his lips are redder and fuller, and his hair is a mess, Liam can’t remember putting his hand in them. Pulling Harry even closer, but he lets them drop, sheepish.

“Not sure why we came here if we won’t use the huge bed you’ve got,” Louis says, sounding a lot more breathless that just minutes ago. Liam can feel him pushing up against his bum, and his hands are brushing lower and lower on Liam’s stomach, knuckles rubbing against Harry.

It’s probably meant to tease them both, and Liam can feel his cock chub up in his tight jeans. And Harry’s cock pushes up against him when he rolls his hips against him.

“Pretty sure Niall would’ve had your balls, in that case,” Harry says with a small laugh that turns into a moan when Liam pushes a hand between to rub over Harry’s cock.

As always, feeling it, hot and heavy, under his hand, makes his mouth water. There’s something special about getting his mouth on it, and Liam never would’ve guessed how much he loves sucking cock.

“Think Liam’s a bit eager,” Louis says knowingly, reaching around to trace his fingers next to Liam’s.

Harry groans and closes his eyes; he look wrecked already, his cheeks pink and his mouth open, and Liam can’t wait to have Harry under him again.

“Come on then,” Liam says and slips out from between Harry and Louis. He doesn’t wait for them before he starts walking towards the bedroom, knowing that they might as well end up fucking in the hall, if he doesn’t offer something better.

A nice, soft bed _is_ a better option.

“Yeah, very eager,” Louis teases, being the one to say something first when Harry and Louis join him in the bedroom. Liam’s already taken off his jacket and shirt, folding it on the chair Harry’s set out at the end of the bed.

Liam thinks they might have kissed once more, after he left them, because Harry keeps looking at Louis’ lips, and biting his own.

Liam chuckles and unzips his jeans. “Like you aren’t.”

“Well,” Louis says as Harry pulls his already half-open shirt over his head. “I wouldn’t say that I’m not eager to fuck you again. It’s been too long since I’ve had a go at your sweet arse.”

Liam stops trying to get his jeans down, blinking slowly as he looks between Harry and Louis. “That’s the way we’re doing it?” He doesn’t oppose to it; he does love Louis’ cock in him, a lot, but he doesn’t want Harry to think that he wants Louis _more_.

“Think we’ve time to do it all the ways,” Louis says, and that makes the last of Liam’s nervousness bleed away.

“Oh,” Liam breathes out. “That’s good to hear.”

“You might want my cock afterwards, too,” Harry says, shocking a small moan out of Liam, his eyes slipping shut for a moment.

“Yeah,” Harry murmurs into Liam’s ear, sure hands pushing at Liam’s jeans. With a little wriggling, he gets out of them, and then when he watches Harry kiss Louis, tongue dipping into his mouth as if he wants to learn the taste of him.

When he’s able to just stand there and stare, Liam helps Harry out of his jeans.

It takes a lot more wriggling, and Liam drops to his knees to get his ridiculously tight jeans off of Harry. Harry’s cock bobs in front of his face, and Liam shifts forward, the movement habitual.

He might as well, when he’s down there. So, he fit his mouth around Harry’s cock, and smiles to himself – as much as he can with his mouth so busy – as he feels Harry twitch into him.

“Bloody hell,” Louis mumbles, and Liam can see him staring at Liam with dark eyes as he blinks up, tears already prickling at the corners of his eyes. He’s too eager, too quickly, though he doesn’t regret a thing when he feels Harry slip in and out of his mouth, fucking forward slightly. “You look so good with a dick in your mouth.” He takes a shaky breath, pushing his thumb against Liam’s bottom lip. “Even if it’s not mine.”

Liam hums and tries to take Harry deeper into his mouth. His tongue traces the fat vein on the underside of Harry’s cock, as he pulls back, gasping for breath.

Liam’s lips are tacky with precome and saliva when he pulls away, and for a moment he just kneels there, grinning up at his boys.

“Either you should suck my cock, too, or you should get up on the bed, and let someone fuck you,” Louis says, like it’s an easy option.

It’s not.

Liam bites his lips, knowing there’s no rush to anything. But up on the bed, with someone’s dick in him, sounds good to him. “I think we should fuck.”

Louis nods eagerly, and starts pulling at his t-shirt. Harry laughs, and holds his hand out to Liam.

When Louis is naked too, his clothes dropped in a pile on the floor in his hurry to get out of them, they move up on the bed. It’s hard to stop touching each other, and at times, Liam’s not sure who’s hands are where. He keeps giggling, for no real reason more than he’s happy.

There are lots of kisses swapped, all of them switching, so everybody gets theirs, nobody ever forgotten. But then Harry pushes him back on the bed, sitting back on his shins as he nods towards the drawer, on Louis’ side of the bed.

He grabs a pillow, pushes it underneath Liam’s hips when he lifts up, and says to Louis, “Get the lube, won’t you.”

Louis nods and grins as he roots around for it, making a bigger mess than he has to. He grabs a strip of condoms, too, dropping it in the rumpled sheets.

Liam lets his legs fall apart when Louis crawls between them, and lets his eyes slip close as Louis’ fingers rub over his hole. Harry’s hand stroking over his stomach, teasingly close his cock as Louis pushes in with one fingertip, Liam just nods to himself. He wants to push down on Louis’ finger, slowly opening him for his cock, or closer to Harry, so he gets a hand on his cock.

He wants everything, and he can’t pick. He can’t even think, his skin tingling everywhere he’s touched. He’s starved for this kind of attention; it’s been too long.

“More,” Liam pleads, trying to splay his thighs wider. It’s too slow, too little. He wants that burn of Louis’ cockhead popping into him, stretching him open.

Louis tuts, but lets another finger tease at Liam’s hole, playing with his rim.

“Hate you so much,” Liam groans, when Harry wraps a tight fist around his cock, thumb pushing against the wet slit.

“No you don’t,” Louis says, grinning as he sinks in with two fingers.

“I’d say Louis is right,” Harry says sweetly, removing his hand from Liam’s cock and fisting his own, the slide as he starts wanking with Liam’s precome.

“Fine,” Liam mumbles, grabbing at Harry’s thigh when Louis finds that spot in him, causing a shock of warmth rush through his body. “I don’t hate you.”

When Liam feels like he’s going to shake apart, Louis lets him have what he wants. With Harry next to him, so close that he could rub off against Liam’s stomach if he just moved a little, Louis puts on a condom and presses his cock against Liam’s hole.

“You’re going so good, babe,” Harry mumbles, tweaking one of Liam’s nipples with his free hand, distracting him enough that he lets out a shocked moan when Louis’ cock sinks into him, solid and hot.

Louis fucks him with slow, hard thrusts at first, Liam’s legs over his shoulders. Every push causing Liam’s cock to blurt out more precome on his stomach, already covered sticky smears. Harry keeps bending forward to kiss him, and lets him pant into his mouth as he reaches down to curl his hand around Liam’s cock, brushing up against his chest, and then down again.

Liam comes first, with Louis’ cock grinding into him slowly, and Harry’s fingers wrapped tight around him. It hits him hard, the double sensation of being filled again and again, and that talented, large hand pumping him, causing him to groan and tip his head back. He can’t even keep his eyes open, but he feels his stomach get wet with come, and Harry’s hand spreading the mess around, when he’s finally stopped coming.

“Just a little more,” Louis mumbles, pausing as he waits for Liam to catch his breath.

Liam mumbles for him to, “Go on”. His head feels fuzzy as he smiles up as Harry, wanting him to come, as he can tell that Louis is getting close.

Harry smirks, fisting his come-covered hand around his cock, eyes fixated on Louis fucking him with shaky movements as he gets himself off. Liam shivers every time Louis moves in him, but it’s still nice, so keeps his legs open, and urges Louis on with quiet words, telling how nice his cock feels, how much he pleases Liam.

Louis comes with a near silent moan, holding himself deep in Liam, and his head dropping forward. Liam can feel it, even with the condom on, how his cock swells even more, and the heat of his come.

Harry’s just behind him, streaks of sticky come hitting Liam’s stomach and chest. He’s a real mess, and he can’t stop smiling.

Afterwards, when Harry’s stumbled into the bathroom to get something to get them cleaned off with, Louis lets the towel drop to the floor, and curls up next to Liam, wrapping his arm around his stomach. His toes are cold as he pushes them against Liam’s ankles.

On his other side, Harry pats his stomach, still tacky with traces of come and sweat, and nuzzles close to Liam’s neck. “We can do the rest tomorrow.” He reaches out to give Louis a pat too, letting his hand be on Louis’ side.

Liam hums sleepily and closes his eyes. It doesn’t take long for him to fall asleep, knowing that they’ll both be there the next morning.

– – –

It’s not always the three of them together, just most often. They never go just two of them on proper dates, not ones that end in sex, but Liam wants Harry and Louis to get to know each other. Without him, it’s not so easy for them to reach for him, just because they’re used to it.

It’s not that he doesn’t like to have both their attention; he loves it. But it’s about all three of them. They’ve all dreamt each other’s dreams, so they’re meant for each other as much as for him.

He wants it to be on equal grounds, and he’s got a head start with the both of them. So when he’s at work, Harry and Louis do little things together. They meet up for coffee, and Harry drags a complaining Louis along to an art show – who wouldn't have come in case he didn’t want to go.

It’s not always perfect; it’s hard sometimes in the beginning, but it works. It works a lot better than Liam ever could have hoped. He’s sure now that they have a future, all of them together. They complement each other, and Liam feels more centred when he’s with them both.

He’d surely been happy with just one of them, either one, but it’s better like this. He’s never alone, if he doesn't want to be. He’s got Harry who tags along on his runs and to do yoga with.

And Louis, who likes to look when they do yoga, but would rather kick some ball outside with Liam.

Four weeks into their relationship, it’s time for another big step. Since it feels like they’re stable, and meant to last, it’s time to meet the parents.

So Liam’s been fuzzing with everything at home, Harry’s flat today, they stay there most often. There’s been some talk about moving in, properly living together, but they don’t want to rush things.

It would save Liam some rent, and he’d be able to go home to his mum and dad more often. Liam’s got a long mental list, of reasons that they should get one bigger flat, for all three of them.

“Oi, oi,” Louis says from the door, already dressed and ready. He looks nicely cleaned up, and Liam knows he’s tried his hardest to make a good impression.

Harry has done the same; he’s even buttoned two extra buttons on his shirt. “We’ve to get to the station,” he says, patiently.

They’re probably late already, and usually, Liam is the one to make sure they get where they should, when they should.

Today, it’s Liam’s parents they’re going to visit.

Next weekend it’s Harry’s family, and then it’s time for a trip to Doncaster, but that’ll have to wait two more weeks since Liam needs to work the weekend in between.

He’s not sure if he’s the most nervous about taking his boys home with him or meeting their parents. Probably the latter; they’ve reason not to like him, he figures.

They tell him it’s alright — it’s not like Harry and Louis told them every gruesome detail of the breakups. Liam didn’t either, it hurt too much to talk about it.

As long as they're happy, their families are too, he’s been told.

Though, Harry said his sister might threaten him a _little_ , just for show. Since that’s what you’re supposed to do to your little brother’s boyfriends.

Louis will get the same treatment.

Yeah, he’s definitely more nervous about their families, though he’ll do his best to charm them.

Telling his mum was special. She knew of both boys already, so that made the story easier to tell. And for her to understand that he went for it.

The Liam that he was before the first time he was together with them, he wouldn't have thought it was possible to love two people like that. That Liam wouldn't have ended up here.

So that might be why it was such a different path for them than for many other couples. And they are an official couple now, proper boyfriends.

His mum is still a bit confused, but after Liam’s googling he’s been able to tell her that it’s rare to have more than one soulmate. But it’s happened before. People just don’t talk about it because it’s so usual, and some think that it could make people wait for more people to pop up in their lives, if they knew.

Though, Liam knows how sure and loved-up, how complete, he feels now that he’s with them both. It’s not like there’s any doubt in his mind that it’s not right.

Maybe he’ll write a song about it, and play it for Louis and Harry. If they like it; he might try to get it out there. Maybe help some kid who’s like him less confused, less alone.

Liam likes the idea of being to make it easier for someone.

It’s a bit special, what they have. But he’s not ashamed that he’s dating two blokes, and he couldn’t care less if anyone disagrees with his choices.

It’s meant to be, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, and I hope that you liked it! [Tumblr post can be found here, if you like to reblog or something.](http://liamismymuffin.tumblr.com/post/160019066489/fic-love-you-like-i-should) :-)


End file.
